


Surf's Up

by Clea2011



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Surfers, Fluff and Angst, Heartbroken Arthur, M/M, Past Arthur Pendragon/Mordred (Merlin), Pining, Surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-11-15 07:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 45,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: Merlin hates surfing. Everything about it - sand, sea, surfers...So when Gwen bribes him to come surfing with her, he's not expecting to enjoy it.He doesn't.And he absolutely does not find the hot blond prat of a surfing instructor attractive. Not at all...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/gifts).
  * Inspired by [ART: Surf's Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11222925) by [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/pseuds/fingerprintbruises). 



> This was written for the 2017 Reverse Big Bang. I was lucky enough to get some beautiful art to work with - do go and check out fingerprintbruises' work [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11222925) and leave lots of love. 
> 
> One warning on this work - I can't surf. I can barely even swim! I apologise now to all surfers for all inaccuracies, though I suspect not TOO many will be reading this. I've researched as much as I could, but the various leagues were very confusing so in the end I did my own thing. 
> 
> Surfing is, however, now an official Olympic Sport. 
> 
> A huge thank you to fingerprintbruises for being amazingly patient and kind with me as I consistently failed to hit deadlines. You've been lovely to work with, and your artwork has been inspirational. I've had a lot of fun writing this, which is why it's grown and grown. Also huge thanks to pelydryn77 for her epic beta job this week. I can't claim that I'll never stop my comma offences because we both know I won't, but I will try! Finally thank you to side_steppings and narlth for hosting this event and being very patient with me.

 

If it was possible that there was one life form lower than all others on the planet, then it was surfers.

At least, according to Merlin.

Merlin Emrys was not a surfer. He lived in a small flat above his Uncle Gaius’ bookshop in Camelot-on-Sea. It was convenient, because his uncle had retired a year earlier and pretty much handed the bookshop over to Merlin. Merlin loved that bookshop. As a child the little alcoves and winding staircase had fascinated him. In his teens he’d liked to hide away from the world there, sitting up by the first floor window that looked out over the ocean. Of course, in the summer those surfers had ruined the view, but aside from that one small blemish the place was perfect.

When Merlin had finished university, he’d come back to work in the shop for the summer like he had for the previous five years. That time though, his uncle had offered him a 50% share of the business, plus the use of the flat. Merlin hadn’t even had to think about it.

Much as he loved the quaint little shop, it had seen a few modernisations during Merlin’s brief time at the helm. The stock was now all on a database, the till was computerised, and out in the previously unused courtyard at the back was now a very popular café.

Gwen Smith, Merlin’s best friend since their schooldays, ran that café. It was popular, not only due to the fact that cafés in a bookshop were a bit of a thing nowadays, but also the fact that they’d opened up the back gate and had access down to the beach. It brought in a lot of extra trade.

Of course, that also meant surfers came in. Merlin could hardly blame them though. Gwen’s café was pretty magical. It wasn’t as if even Merlin could resist it. Except, possibly, when the surfers were in there.

The particularly magical thing about Gwen’s café was the delicious selection of cakes. Gwen made amazing cakes, never the same on any given day. Yesterday it had been lemon drizzle. The day before it was coffee cake. And today…

“I made your favourite,” Gwen smiled, bringing over his mid-morning cuppa and a plate boasting an enormous slice of what looked like her wonderful, sinful, rich chocolate cake. And a fork, because it was so moist that there was just no other way to eat it.

“Is that...”

“Oh yes,” she smiled.

Merlin moved to take it, but she swung the plate out of reach. Oh. She wanted something. And it was a _huge_ slice. It had to be a gigantic favour.

“I baked this especially for you, Merlin. Haven’t even put the rest of the cake out for sale yet. I know how much you love it.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Well, just a tiny, _tiny_ favour. You’ll probably enjoy it anyway.”

Merlin doubted that if it needed chocolate cake as a bribe. “Probably?” he repeated warily. “What is it?”

“Just… there’s this guy I’ve met.”

Merlin could guess which one. The handsome, dark-haired, olive-skinned piece of perfection who kept coming to the café and spending far too long chatting to Gwen for his interest to be considered remotely platonic. Nice enough guy, except…

“He’s that surfer.”

“Yes,” Gwen admitted far too enthusiastically. “He’s really good, does competitions and teaches as well. He has beginner classes starting next week.”

“That’s… well words fail me. What’s the favour?”

“I want to sign up for the classes.”

That wasn’t so bad. “You don’t need my permission. Or is it in work time?”

“No, Thursday evenings. But… I don’t want to go by myself to the first one.”

Ah.

“Morgana could go with you,” Merlin suggested slightly desperately. “She likes surfing.”

“Beginners? She’s in the same club as Lance… that’s the guy’s name, by the way. I need someone who can’t surf, a complete beginner. And given that we live in Camelot-on-Sea, the surfing capital of the whole UK, there aren’t many people to pick from.”

There had to be someone else. Anyone else. “Uncle Gaius?”

Gwen had obviously been taking lessons from Gaius, given the fact that she immediately managed to perfect the disapproving eyebrow look that his uncle was so good at. “Actually he told me that he used to surf when he was younger. Not for about twenty years now but… no, he wouldn’t be a credible beginner.”

That was probably just embarrassing, that old Uncle Gaius would be a better surfer than Merlin. “There must be someone.”

“Yes. You!” She waved the plate just out of reach again. “Mmm, smells delicious. Look how grateful I’d be. Your favourite cake every day this week! And all those delicious men in neoprene!”

That was tempting, he had to admit. But… “I hate surfing.”

“But you love me!” Gwen cooed. “And you want to see me happy! And… cake!” She peeped over the top of the cake at him, looking almost pathetically pleading.

Merlin sighed and held out his hand for the plate, aware he was going to regret this. “I want the entire cake.”

“Done.”

He knew he probably had been.

Once, in his early teens, Merlin had tried his hand at surfing. It was a rite of passage for Cornish youngsters, after all. Everyone did it. It didn’t look particularly difficult. And so Merlin had gone along with his friends, borrowed one of their boards, and had a go. After all, the only skill appeared to be standing on a good, solid board. How hard could that be?

He’d nearly drowned in the process, managing to terrify his friends. Unfortunately, there had been other witnesses besides just his friends. He’d made a complete fool of himself and been teased mercilessly at school by those other people for months. The board had flipped over when he fell off and hit him on the head. He’d swallowed half the ocean, or what felt like it. Surfing, as far as Merlin was concerned, was a dangerous, stupid, pointless sport. He had sworn never to try again.

But of course that was way before Gwen had grown up to become the best baker in the county, baking cakes that Merlin would do almost anything for.

And so, with a heavy heart, the following Thursday evening Merlin locked up the shop and headed down to the beach, Gwen at his side. Gwen was positively skipping with excitement. Obviously she had it very bad indeed for this Lance person. Merlin couldn’t entirely blame her, Lance was drop-dead gorgeous after all. But he wasn’t feeling overly fond of the man. After all, it was Lance’s fault that Merlin was about to return to the surf.

It was a warm evening in late spring. The tourists hadn’t yet descended on the town en masse, so the place still belonged mostly to the locals. It meant business was slow, and Merlin wasn’t entirely happy about paying twelve-fifty for the lesson. Worse, that was half price as a taster session. If Gwen forced him to go again, then it was going to cost double that. There were far better things to spend his money on, like… well, the list was endless really.

“I could’ve bought that limited edition, signed box set of Harry Potter with what this is costing. The one with all the covers that line up and make a picture.”

“That was a lot more than twelve pounds fifty,” Gwen pointed out.

Possibly Merlin had mentioned it to her once or twice. He really loved limited editions. One day, when the shop had made a fortune for him, he’d start collecting in earnest. But for now he had to make do with a few lucky bargain finds.

“This is really good value for a surfing lesson anyway,” Gwen continued. “Off-season taster specials. They’ll be twice this price in a few weeks.”

Merlin had tasted surfing. Specifically, he had tasted the sea quite a lot when surfing had almost killed him. He wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience. “Waste of money,” he grumbled.

“Cake,” Gwen reminded him. “Coffee and walnut tomorrow.”

Merlin was weak in the face of Gwen’s baking. “It had better be a big slice,” he warned. “And only this one lesson, that’s what we agreed.”

Gwen just beamed at him. Merlin knew from years of experience that this did not bode well.

“A _very_ big slice,” he added.

Albion Surf School was everything Merlin expected it to be. If possible, it was actually slightly worse.

There were five other potential students waiting outside when he and Gwen arrived. Most of them looked far too enthusiastic for Merlin’s liking, and two were already dressed in what looked like expensive wetsuits.

“We can hire suits, right?” Merlin whispered to Gwen. He’d come down dressed in jeans and a hoodie. They’d been told that all they needed to bring with them was a towel.

“Lance said it’s all included in the price,” she told him, eyeing the two overly keen students warily. They seemed to have brought their own boards as well. “If we don’t enjoy it then we won’t have wasted our money on equipment. Oh, here’s Lance.”

Merlin knew that was probably the last time he was going to have Gwen’s attention for the next few hours. Lance the surfer, looking far too good in a perfectly-fitting wetsuit, came jogging up to the clubhouse.

“Everyone here for beginners?” he called, smiling widely at them all. His gaze lingered on Gwen longer than the others.

Merlin tried not to roll his eyes at them.

“Sorry I’m late,” Lance continued. “Arthur was having some problems with one of the intermediates. Bit of an argument. Someone thought they should go up a class. We didn’t agree, because they really weren’t ready. The student stormed off. Arthur’s got a smaller group.” He unlocked the door to the clubhouse, then held it open and gestured for his class to go inside. “One thing to always remember. We’ve been doing this for years. If we tell you you’re not ready for something, then please listen. We’re really big on safety at Albion, and we’ll only move you onto more difficult things when you’re ready. Sometimes that’s going to be frustrating, but believe me when I tell you that it’s going to make you a better surfer in the long run. If you want to be the best, you learn from the best. And we’re the best.”

“Weren’t you the runners-up to Essetir School last year?” one of the other students asked.

“Yes. Essetir take risks. We don’t. And if you move on up to the intermediate class, don’t remind Arthur that we didn’t win,” Lance smiled. “He’ll have you doing squats or cleaning the clubhouse toilet for your entire lesson.”

“And paying for the privilege?” Merlin couldn’t help asking. Gwen elbowed and shushed him.

“Well, we have to make a living,” Lance told him. “And it saves money on the cleaners. Win win!”

Gwen laughed at that, as did a few of the others.

“But you’re lucky,” Lance continued. “You’re in my group and we don’t do cleaning. You just get a half-price lesson from me and, hopefully, the start of a lifelong love of surfing.”

It was a bit nauseating. Merlin wondered if Lance was a used car salesman during the day or something.

“First up,” Lance told them. “We’re going to have a short safety session. Then we’ll get you all suited up, and you can choose your board. Finally we’ll head down to the beach and you can learn how to stand up on your boards.”

None of it sounded like actual surfing. Which wasn’t a bad thing as far as Merlin was concerned. Still, he was nervous, and being nervous made him always say the worst thing possible.

“No wonder it’s half price!”

There was another sharp elbow in his side from Gwen. Lance’s smile dipped just for a moment, then was back brighter than ever.

“Oh, don’t worry… er, what’s your name?”

“Merlin.”

“Merlin. Welcome, Merlin. And don’t worry, all those things are important and have to be done. But you’ll still get a good hour or so in the water. More than enough for your first time out.”

“Sounds great!” Gwen enthused, smacking Merlin on the arm. Presumably she wanted to be absolutely sure that he knew how cross she was with him.

A blonde girl came rushing in at that moment, almost tripping over her own feet.

“I’m late! Traffic! Sorry! Couldn’t get into the car park. Everyone here already?”

“This is Elena,” Lance told them. “Elena is our administrator. You’ve probably already spoken to her or emailed her when you booked.”

Merlin hadn’t done either - he’d left it all to Gwen. Elena had gone over to what looked as if it might have been a reception desk. It had heaps of papers all over it, most of them held down by an assortment of pebbles. It didn’t look very well-organised. Merlin thought about his own office, where all the stock was on computer and there was hardly any paper around. Well, apart from all the books of course. Plenty of paper there. Elena pulled out a handful of it and went round giving them all a form to sign in case of accident or injury. It didn’t bode well at all.

Lance then had them all sit down and watch a safety video. Merlin tried to concentrate on it because he’d already discovered how very dangerous surfing could be. He could faintly hear Lance and Elena arguing behind him.

“There’s seven of them,” Lance kept saying. “Seven, not six.”

And Elena was arguing back that she was sure, and that maybe it was because of someone called Vivien storming off and confusing everything.

But mostly Merlin paid attention to the videos. Falling off the board… yes, he knew he was going to do that. This time, though, he would know to protect his head. Why hadn’t the idiots all those years ago told him that?

The video finished far too soon. Lance called them over to get suited up.

“This time of year it can get quite cold,” Lance told them. “You’ll need a spring suit, at the least, and preferably a full body wetsuit. I know you’ve probably seen all those surfers in the movies just wearing a pair of skimpy shorts and think you’re going to look like that. Well that’s not the professional way to do it. At the very least you’ll need a rash vest.”

Merlin tuned out a bit after that. Lance started going on about the need for proper attire and the fact that you could get a rash from the wax on your board so needed to wear something to protect your skin.

Another reason why surfing was obviously a dreadful idea.

Merlin was not happy with the wetsuit he was given. He was quite sure he looked ridiculous in it. Still, it wasn’t as if there were any particularly attractive men around. Or at least not eligible ones. Lance was already taken, or as good as, and the other two males in the class looked as if they were about fifteen.

“Your suit should feel like a second skin. If it doesn’t, if you’re impeded in your movement in any way, then you’ve got the wrong size and need to choose another. And don’t worry about what a struggle it might have been to get into it. It all gets easier with practice.” Lance was smiling at Gwen when he said all that. She’d chosen a pink and black wetsuit that without question fit her like a second skin. Lance was definitely appreciating that fact.

Merlin’s suit did feel okay, appearances aside. It was a bit warm, but he supposed that wouldn’t be the case once they were outside. He was sure it was emphasising his long limbs and making him look scrawny and awkward though.

“Now, we have a little bit of a problem,” Lance continued. “Unfortunately, the class has been over-subscribed.”

“My fault!” Elena beamed, not looking at all repentant. “Sorry!”

“Yes. Well, we’ll go out and run through all the basics, but then I’ll need an extra instructor when we get in the water,” Lance told them. “So, let’s choose our boards and get out there. Elena, could you see if Gwaine’s available?”

Merlin was sure Elena blushed when Lance said that. Her smile definitely brightened, and she rushed off.

“Boards,” Lance announced. Merlin considered saying that he was indeed bored.  However, he didn’t like the idea of risking another sharp elbow from Gwen so he kept quiet. “You now need to choose your first one.”

One of the fifteen-year-olds had brought a lurid green one with him, but Lance made him put it to one side. Apparently, beginners were supposed to learn on a foamie, or a soft board. They were supposed to be easier to stand up on and more buoyant in the water. And because they were made of foam, even if you did get hit on the head by the fins, you were unlikely to be injured. Merlin wished he’d known that when he’d tried surfing that one, horrible, time before.

“But you haven’t wasted your money,” Lance reassured the boy kindly. “You’ll soon outgrow the foamies and want a proper board. And this is a good one.” He patted the green board admiringly. “You’ll be glad later that you didn’t risk damaging it when you were learning.”

Merlin had been given a blue board. It was light but still reminded him far too much of the thing he’d used as a youngster. This one was wider though. It looked a little battered, but that was probably due to an endless stream of beginners using it.

Lance led them all down to the beach.  Instead of taking them into the sea, he told them to all put their boards down in a semi-circle around him. The next twenty minutes or so was spent learning how to lie on the board in the correct way and then how to stand up on it. It wasn’t so bad, and Merlin thought that as long as they didn’t have to get into the water, then he would probably survive his first lesson. No such luck.

“Okay, that’s enough on the theory,” Lance announced. “Time to catch some waves. Prone surfing first, just lie on your board like I showed you and get used to surfing like that. Then we’ll worry about standing up.”

Merlin wondered if he could hang back like he had at school in any sort of sports class. Sometimes he’d managed to miss it completely. No such luck though.

“Now, before we start, we do have a problem,” Lance reminded them. “We’re overbooked. For safety reasons I can only take a maximum of six students in the novice class, and Elena doesn’t seem to have found Gwaine yet.”

“That’s okay,” Merlin put in quickly, seeing his opportunity. “I don’t mind missing out. I’ve been on a surfboard before.”

“Merlin!” Gwen hissed, but he pretended not to hear. “You promised!”

But Lance was looking at him as if he’d said something completely brilliant. “You’ve surfed before?”

“Well… when I was younger, I…” Merlin began, but Lance had already turned away and was waving and calling to one of his friends who was already out on a surfboard.

“Hey! Arthur! Come here! Arthur!”

A blond, bronzed image of perfection that might have been the god Apollo come back to earth was walking out of the sea towards them. Merlin thought he had never seen anything so attractive. He forgot about his protests to Lance and just enjoyed the view.

And then the vision of perfection opened his mouth.

“What’s the matter? Your babies in need of some pointers from a professional?”

Maybe not entirely wonderful after all. Still, he filled out that wetsuit sinfully well. Behind him there was a small group of surfers, all watching Arthur wading ashore. Merlin didn’t blame them, despite the man’s arrogance.

“Arthur, can you take one of my beginners?” Lance asked. “I’ve got one too many, and I know you’ve only got a small class today. Merlin here says he’s surfed before. He could go in with your intermediates.”

“What?” Merlin gasped. “No!”

“It’s just this one week,” Lance continued. “It’s a shame to turn people away when they’ve come along all enthusiastic to start. And you’re a great instructor, Arthur.”

Arthur gave a little snort at that obvious attempt at flattery. Or perhaps he thought it was true?

“Merlin, eh? Are you going to be _magical_ on the waves?”

Arthur might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he was obviously a complete prat. Merlin glared back at him, forgetting for a moment that going into an intermediate class was a terrible, horrible idea.

“If a clotpole like you can do it, it can’t be that difficult!” Merlin snapped.

Arthur took a step back, clutching his hand to his heart mockingly. “A clotpole! What wit! Did you make that up all by yourself?”

“No, but your parents obviously did.”

“Merlin!” Gwen hissed, but he wasn’t listening, too intent on the arrogant, annoying, _drop-dead gorgeous_ brain-dead surfer in front of him.

“Did they now?” Arthur smirked. “Well at least they didn’t give me a _wizard_ name!” He looked around at the rest of the group, obviously very pleased with his own wordplay. Some laughed. Most of them looked at him blankly. Wizard, after all, hadn’t been used as a cool term for great since about the seventies. Arthur’s parents were probably aging hippies or something.

Merlin leaned forward, giving a little bow. “True. They named you after a king who shagged his sister and got killed off by his own son. Nice. Are you going to call one of your kids Mordred?”

Arthur’s expression changed abruptly from mocking to furious. “That’s not funny,” he snapped. He turned to Lance, who was now looking extremely concerned. “Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke? Did Gwaine set this up?”

Lance shook his head mutely, glancing worriedly at Merlin.

“Well how would he know?” Arthur jerked his thumb towards Merlin. “Ah, no, you’re a friend of Cenred’s, right?”

“I don’t know who Cenred is,” Merlin replied, a little unnerved by Arthur’s reaction. “It was just a joke, mate. You started on my name first.”

“I’m not your mate.”

“Obviously. I could never be mates with someone who was such a prat. So, shall we start again?” Merlin stuck his hand out. “Hi, I’m Merlin. I have to do another hour of this surfing lesson, or Gwen’s never going to bake me cakes ever again. And, apparently, you have to teach me. But don’t worry, it’s a single lesson so you won’t have to do it again.”

Oh god, he could hear himself being rude. If his mum had been within earshot he would be getting an extensive telling off at any moment. But Arthur deserved it. Arthur, obviously, brought out the very worst in him.

Arthur looked at the proffered hand in disbelief, then back at Merlin. He didn’t move to shake it. “Fine. Shall we get on with it then? Let’s see how good you are.”

Ah.

Merlin had got completely carried away in a rush of hormones and nervousness and forgotten one crucial, horrible fact about the entire situation. He trotted along behind Arthur, carrying the surfboard awkwardly. Arthur was definitely walking too quickly on purpose to make things difficult.

“Um… I can’t actually surf,” Merlin admitted.

Arthur slowed, then turned, a strangely amused smile on his face. “What?”

“Um… I thought Lance was looking for someone who didn’t mind dropping out because the class was overbooked so I said I’d been on a board before. Which I have. Once. He didn’t let me explain that it was a disaster and just called you over. So I really don’t mind sitting this out.”

“You can’t surf?”

“I fell off and the board hit me on the head.”

At least that made Arthur smile. Actually, it made him throw back his head and laugh, and damn if that wasn’t the most attractive thing ever.

“Well that explains a lot, _Mer_ -lin. Didn’t whoever was teaching you tell you how to protect your head?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose I’d better make allowances for you, seeing as you’ve got a brain injury. You’ve done the right thing this time, coming to a proper surf school. Albion’s the best.”

“I went to a proper surf school last time,” Merlin pointed out. He had doubts that it was a proper one, given his experience and the differences that he was already seeing at this one.

Arthur frowned again. He was going to end up with a deep line there in the future if he kept that up. Which would mar perfection, Merlin thought. It might not be a bad thing.

“Really? Which one?”

“Essetir.”

Arthur gave a contemptuous snort just at the name, and Merlin belatedly remembered Lance’s warning about Arthur’s feelings on the place. Oh well, he’d already made a terrible impression.  It wasn’t as if he was ever going to stand any sort of chance with Arthur. Not that he wanted to. Not at all.

“So you do know Cenred?”

Merlin shook his head. “Never heard of them. It was about ten years ago. There was a big angry bloke doing all the teaching. Val or something like that. Probably still scary now. Terrifying when you’re just a kid.”

“That’s Valiant. He’s still there. But Cenred’s the owner.  He inherited the place from his father and is running it into the ground. They cut costs at every opportunity and never mind about student safety. You hit your head?”

“I nearly drowned,” Merlin admitted. “I didn’t want to come surfing today. Gwen made me. She bribed me with cake.”

“Cake?” Arthur queried. “Seriously?”

Merlin couldn’t see what was wrong with cake, but then this Arthur was obviously keen to find fault in everything he did or said.

“Gwen makes amazing cake,” Merlin told Arthur. “You have no idea how good it is till you’ve tried it.”

Arthur did actually look quite interested for a moment, then promptly hid it with a rather superior look that Merlin was already starting to find annoying.

“I’m a professional sportsman. I don’t eat cake.”

“Surfing’s not a proper sport!” Merlin retaliated, and immediately awarded himself a point for the indignant expression on Arthur’s face at that. “It’s not in the Olympics or anything.”

“Hah!” Arthur snarled. “Yes it is! It’s making its debut at the 2020 games in Tokyo. Gwaine is world class. He’s a dead cert to get selected for the British team. And I’m currently only one championship behind him. I’ve been training to surf since birth!”

The bit about the Olympics was news to Merlin, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Arthur hadn’t made it up. But really, the arrogant idiot obviously needed taking down a peg or two so Merlin wasn’t going to give in.

“Really? And how long have you been training to be a prat?”

Arthur glared at him. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

Merlin raised an eyebrow in what he hoped was a great impression of his Uncle Gaius, because quite clearly he _could_. And there was more where that came from.

“I don’t know why you’re even here,” Arthur continued. “I’m certainly not wasting my time teaching you if you’re not interested.”

Merlin shrugged. “You’re probably not a very good or patient instructor anyway. And this isn’t a good advert for your school, turning away new students.”

“You’ve already made it clear you’re not interested,” Arthur pointed out. “If you _were_ interested, then I’d be happy to teach you. But you’re just here for _cake_.” He glared at Merlin, who scowled back.

They were standing at the water’s edge. The small group of surfers already in the water had mostly lost interest in watching Arthur and were heading back out to catch the waves. Only one young man was still standing in the shallow water, evidently waiting for his instructor to return. Arthur waved to him.

“George! I’ve got an opportunity for you!” Arthur called. The young man immediately hurried over to them. “George is training to be an instructor,” Arthur explained as George approached. “I think he has a natural talent for it. He’ll be starting with beginners, shadowing Lance. So a one to one session with you today would be a perfect opportunity.”

It had to be better than having to put up with Arthur for another hour, Merlin thought. Or even another minute.

How wrong he was.

George was a very keen instructor. So keen, in fact, that he was apparently absolutely determined to turn Merlin into a surfer against all odds.

“First,” George told him, “we’re going to learn to stand on the board.”

Merlin decided not to point out that Lance had already gone through that. After all, it delayed the inevitable horrible moment when he would have to enter the water. Standing on dry land on his board was, as far as Merlin was concerned, just fine. At first.

It became quite annoying though when George criticised every aspect of the way Merlin stood on the board and then had him pretty much starting from scratch again. Perhaps the water would have been better after all, Merlin wondered.

Arthur, of all people, was the one who saved him. “Get him in the water!” he called out to George. “Perfect the rest later.”

George actually stood to attention, or close enough. Merlin managed to smother a laugh.

“Arthur is an _amazing_ surfer,” George told Merlin importantly. And Merlin just knew that Arthur had heard him, because the great show off gave what Merlin decided was a far too self-satisfied smirk.

No, resembling all of Merlin’s teenage fantasies come to life was no substitute for being so obnoxious.

“He’s an amazing something,” Merlin agreed, reluctantly following George into the water.

George looked a little puzzled for a moment, then shrugged. “Now,” he began. “First of all we’re going to get used to floating on a board. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll try standing up.”

Merlin was quite sure he’d never be ready for that. He nodded grimly and prepared for the worst…

Merlin would never admit it, but George was actually exactly what he needed. The man took training very, very seriously. There was no point during their lesson when George wasn’t right there with him, and after a while Merlin started to quite like paddling about on his board. Lance’s class were already on their feet… well, briefly. There was a lot of shrieking and falling off and laughter. But Lance and George had both gone over and over the need to protect your head and fall safely, so there were no incidents. Merlin was beginning to see just how very poor his first surf school experience had been. Of course, this one was punctuated by visits from Arthur, who seemed to have decided that either Merlin or George, or possibly both of them, were his personal projects. The ~~gorgeous~~ big plonker kept surfing past, obviously showing off just how very toned and talented and graceful he was. Not that Merlin was noticing. And he absolutely did not want to help Arthur peel off that wetsuit. No.

“You’re doing well!” Arthur called over. Merlin supposed he must be talking to George. “Work on standing up now.”

George nodded importantly. “That’s what I was going to do next,” he assured Arthur.

And so, thanks to Arthur, the dreaded moment arrived. Merlin was going to have to try to actually surf.

“Don’t worry when you fall off,” George advised. “Everyone does.”

“Surely Arthur doesn’t?” Merlin pointed out, deadpan.

“No. Well… not often,” George allowed.

Merlin wondered if he could get away with going over and tipping the perfect Arthur off his board just for the fun of it. But Arthur would probably be able to move a lot faster than he could in the water, and Merlin had no doubt he would regret such an action. Besides, he supposed it wouldn’t go down very well with everyone else. Judging by the friendly way that all the other surfers were interacting with him, everyone else seemed to like him. Perhaps he was just annoying to Merlin?

Merlin, of course, fell off his board as soon as he tried to stand up. But because he’d listened to George, all he got was a dunking.

“Get back on,” George advised. “We’ll keep trying until you get it.”

And they did. Merlin fell off the board. A lot. But by the end of the lesson he was balancing okay, he’d lost his fear of falling off and hitting his head, and…

“Look at you, Merlin!” Gwen squealed. “You’re surfing!”

And he was. For a few, brief, glorious moments, he was balancing on the board and surfing an admittedly small wave. Gwen cheered him on from the edge of her group. And then he saw that Arthur was watching him too, and he promptly fell off. His board bumped him on the head, but it was only a foam one so didn’t hurt. It was such a contrast to his previous experiences with surfing.

But Arthur was over there in seconds. As Merlin’s head broke the surface, the first thing he saw was Arthur’s angry face glaring back at him.

“Idiot! Protect your head! How many times do you need telling?”

Belatedly, Merlin realised that he had just fallen any which way and had made no effort to prevent a repeat performance of the incident at Essetir. If it had been a proper surfboard instead of the foam thing then that bump to the head would have been as bad as the last one. As it was, Merlin was fine. But Arthur was in full lecture mode.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to fall like you just did?” Arthur continued. “If you’d hit your head badly we’d lose our safety record. You’re just like Mordred, aren’t you? Too quick to take risks. No wonder you hurt yourself when you tried surfing before. Maybe Essetir would be better for you too! _They_ don’t care if you want to play silly buggers! In fact, why don’t you…”

“ _Arthur!_ ” Lance called, wading through the water towards them. “Arthur! That’s enough!”

George, Merlin noticed, was looking worried, possibly even a little scared by Arthur’s outburst. It had attracted a lot of attention. Others were coming over.

“What’s going on?” A tall, reddish-haired man had joined them, closely followed by a slightly shorter but no less toned dark-haired man. They both looked every inch the image of the classic surfer dude. The dark-haired one looked as if he could probably have a career as a model if he wanted it. Really, it was unfair just how many delicious men were involved in the world’s worst hobby, Merlin thought.

“Nothing’s going on,” Arthur grumbled. “Just people not taking our sport seriously.” He shot Merlin one last glare and then splashed off through the shallows. He went a long way, not stopping until he’d put a considerable distance between himself and Merlin.

“George?” the taller surfer asked. “What happened?”

“Elena overbooked the beginners’ class again,” George explained.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” the dark-haired surfer defended instantly. “She’s busy.”

George looked faintly offended at that, but continued. “Lance had too many students. So he asked Arthur to take this one in the intermediate class.”

The tall man frowned at Merlin, then at Lance. “What were you thinking of?”

“Like George said, we had too many in the class. Elena got confused during the booking. Again.” That earned Lance a frown from the dark-haired surfer. Elena obviously had a fan, Merlin guessed. Lucky Elena.

“Any of the others would have been better,” the tall surfer told Lance, looking critically at Merlin. “Didn’t you think?”

Lance looked a bit confused. “Why?”

“Well look at him. Dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes… who does he remind you of?”

Lance looked at Merlin more closely, then grimaced. “Ah.”

Merlin frowned. “I don’t understand.”

The dark-haired surfer gave him a rakish grin, which was far too attractive, then stuck out his hand in welcome. “Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Gwaine. The grump to my left is Leon, and you, my friend, are just a little bit too much like Arthur’s ex-boyfriend Mordred. Arthur’s still hurting from the break-up. Honestly, he’s a great guy when you get to know him. But you have that same sort of look, especially now you’re soaked. Sorry.”

“Mordred? Oh god…” Merlin recalled what he’d said to Arthur when they first met. “I didn’t know. I really put my foot in it earlier with Arthur.”

“Don’t worry. Whatever it was, he’ll get over it. Like I said, he’s a really great guy, it’s just… well, Mordred really did a number on him.”

Merlin couldn’t imagine that Arthur would ever be anything other than antagonistic towards him. But that wasn’t these people’s fault. He shook Gwaine’s hand, then Leon’s. “Thanks for explaining. I’m Merlin.”

“Hah! Like the wizard!” Gwaine exclaimed delightedly.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Merlin sighed. Still, Gwaine seemed nice enough. And easy on the eyes. He’d forgive him.

“Ignore Gwaine,” Leon advised. “And Arthur too for now. Don’t let this put you off. I was watching you. George was doing a good job and you’re just the sort of student he needs to start off with. Why don’t you come back next week for another session with George, still at taster price to make up for the mess this time? Arthur’s away next week so there’s no danger of running into him.”

“And we’re all the best people you could ever wish to hang out with,” Gwaine put in. “Plus we all go to the pub afterwards, which is the best bit.”

“Watching you get drunk is hardly a positive reason to come along,” Leon pointed out.

Gwaine shrugged. “I’m a fun drunk! Anyway, that’s settled, you’re back next week, right Merlin?”

“Well…”

“Great! See you next week!” And with that Gwaine flicked back his magnificent hair with practised ease and headed back out to sea.

“He does tend to railroad you,” Leon sighed. “But you’ll come back, yes? I don’t want you going away with a negative impression of Albion.”

“I don’t have that,” Merlin assured him. “This is so much better than Essetir was. George has been really patient.”

George actually puffed himself up a little at that praise in front of Leon, who Merlin guessed had to be important at the school given that he was in a position to offer Merlin another half-price lesson.

“Good, so we’ll see you next week then,” Leon smiled.

“Well…” Merlin had been leading up to a polite refusal. But the surfers didn’t seem to have grasped that at all. Lance, who really was every bit as easy on the eyes as Arthur and was also far nicer, slung a friendly arm around Merlin’s shoulders and all protests died.

“That’s great,” Lance told him. “You’re going to love surfing. Great way to unwind. And Gwen’s going to be so pleased.”

Gwen. Yes. Lance’s girlfriend, or close enough to it. Merlin sighed. He’d survived lesson one. One more week wasn’t going to hurt.

The following Thursday arrived far too quickly.

Actually, it arrived nearly six days early, with Lance, Gwaine and Leon all turning up in Gwen’s café the following morning. Gwaine and Leon stopped to chat to Merlin, but Lance barely did more than wave hello before he was off to the café. And the same on Saturday morning. And Sunday. By Monday the sight of Lance traipsing through the bookshop had become commonplace. He’d even stopped bothering to bring his friends half the time.

Gwen, of course, was just glowing with happiness. She and Lance had been on two dates since the surfing class, and that was without counting all the times that Lance had visited her in the coffee shop. He was probably going to develop caffeine addiction or something.

“Now you’re seeing Lance, and it’s all official, I don’t need to go to the surf class, do I?” Merlin asked her hopefully when his daily cake turned up on Wednesday afternoon. Cherry, by the look of it.

“Oh yes,” Gwen assured him. “Leon was really worried that you’d got a bad impression of the school. He’s really nice. And George is very excited about having a pupil. So you’d be letting him down too. He’s been preparing really hard for your next lesson.”

Merlin’s life just got worse, it really did. His face must have shown how little he liked the idea because Gwen gently swatted his arm.

“You’ll be getting cake under false pretences if you don’t come along.”

“I’m not even in your group!” Merlin wailed. “And that was the whole point!”

But Gwen just smiled, far too sweetly for someone so obviously evil, and headed back to her café. Merlin wasn’t at all surprised to see Lance and Gwaine heading in there after her only a few minutes later.

At least Arthur never turned up at the shop. That was something.

 Of course, Arthur was there at the school that Thursday evening.

“You said he wasn’t going to be here this week!” Merlin grumbled to George as he struggled into his borrowed wetsuit. Wetsuits were a thing of evil, just like everything else about surfing. Merlin felt incredibly exposed walking around in one, even though he was covered completely, and they were a nightmare to get in and out of.

“I did not,” George pointed out indignantly. “That was Leon. And I believe Arthur’s appointment was cancelled, so Leon was not incorrect either.”

George was very big on being factual, Merlin had noticed. He was also big on making sure Merlin knew the best way to put on his wetsuit. The evil creature had made Merlin take it off and put it back on again twice. If it wasn’t for the fact that George kept gazing longingly over at Morgana (who really did look amazing in her wetsuit), Merlin might have thought George had ulterior motives. But clearly he didn’t. He was just meticulous. And when they finally got out onto the beach (a good ten minutes after everyone else), the first thing Merlin saw was Arthur Pendragon, swaggering up the beach as if he owned it.

Well, perhaps he didn’t actually swagger. Swaggering was a description that Merlin made up in his head to counteract the fact that Arthur looked even finer in his wetsuit than Merlin’s memories of the man suggested. And Merlin definitely did not want to think that Arthur looked fine.

“Merlin!” Arthur called. He jogged across the sand towards Merlin, so there was no chance of escape. Damn, it was even better than watching reruns of Baywatch with the lifeguards doing their slow motion running. But only for a few moments, because Arthur stopped right in front of Merlin, and obviously he was going to speak. Merlin braced himself.

“I’m really sorry about last week,” Arthur began. It wasn’t what Merlin expected to hear from him at all. Arthur ruffled his hand through his hair in what might have been a nervous gesture. “I was having a really bad day, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Perhaps we could start again?” He held out his hand, and gave Merlin a small, half-smile.

It was fairly irresistible. Despite his reservations, Merlin found himself taking Arthur’s hand. He wasn’t surprised to find that the man had a firm grip. His hand was calloused, surprisingly, instead of the pampered soft skin Merlin had expected. Perhaps he worked harder at the surfing thing than Merlin had at first thought.

“Welcome to Albion Surfers, Merlin.” The huge smile that Arthur gave him was far too attractive, but it was also friendly and that was why Merlin returned it. Or so he told himself.

“Thank you,” Merlin replied, because he could be polite too. And he recalled what Leon had said about the ex-boyfriend. Merlin had been there. He knew all about the days when you just couldn’t stop feeling down. But it was probably best not to tell Arthur that, because he didn’t seem like the type who would appreciate having his friends talking about him to relative strangers. Not that Merlin could think of anyone who would be that type.

“Good, that’s good,” Arthur told him. Perhaps it was Merlin’s imagination, or wishful thinking, but it seemed that he kept hold of Merlin’s hand a moment or two longer than was necessary. “Well then, enjoy your lesson. George, just give me a shout if you need any help.”

George stood just a little taller at that, and Merlin wondered if he was offended. It was hard to tell with George. He seemed to display pride and offence with the same gestures.

“We will be fine,” George assured Arthur. “Today we will practise standing on the board. And we will start the basics of the duck dive too, if there’s time.”

Merlin could hardly wait. He momentarily contemplated insulting Arthur in some way to delay the inevitable moment when they would enter the sea, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Arthur didn’t seem the sort of person to swallow his pride and apologise. Merlin supposed that he should just accept it gracefully. He let Arthur walk away and steeled himself for the horror to come.

“You _enjoyed_ it!”

Gwen could be annoyingly accurate sometimes. Her beaming face as she bounded up to him after the surfing lesson was almost smug. But Merlin wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. No.

“It was okay.”

“You were laughing! And you stayed on the board. I was watching you, you’re already better than anyone in the beginners’ class and it’s only been two lessons. Now you _have_ to come back!”

Merlin most definitely did not have to come back, or indeed ever set foot in the place again. And he was about to tell Gwen as much, but right at that moment Leon and Lance joined them.

“That was very good,” Leon told him immediately. Merlin suspected it was all part of the charm offensive that he was sure he was still being subjected to. “You looked as if you were having fun too.”

“That’s what I said!” Gwen exclaimed. “You were really good!”

“George is a good teacher,” Merlin allowed, given that George was standing right there next to them. And to be fair, George had worked very hard. Fun probably wasn’t the right word for the experience, but Merlin had been unable to stop himself laughing with relief more than anything once he found his balance and had started actually surfing. He suspected that he looked horribly ungainly, particularly as Arthur and Gwaine had both been practicing a little further out. They were both amazingly skilful. It hadn’t been an idle boast on Arthur’s part that Gwaine was world-class. “He’s going to be great with your beginner group.”

“Excellent!” Leon smiled. “So, you’ll be signing up for the remaining lessons with George then?”

“Well…”

“Of course he will!” Gwen beamed. “We love it, don’t we Merlin?”

What Gwen loved about the school was tall and dark and currently busy stacking away all the beginner surfboards. But it _had_ felt quite good when Merlin had been up on that board and actually surfing. Merlin wouldn’t go so far as to say that he actually _liked_ it, but it certainly was a lot better than he expected. And George was looking so pleased and hopeful.

“I suppose it’s not so bad. I’ll sign up.”

“Excellent news!” Merlin hadn’t even heard Gwaine come up behind him. Gwaine slapped him on the back, then draped an arm round his shoulders. It was grossly unfair that Gwaine’s interest appeared to be mostly directed to the ditzy blonde girl who mismanaged the school administration. “You’ll be coming with us to the pub then?”

“Well…”

“Of course he will!” Gwen told them. She seemed to be getting quite good at answering for Merlin. And Merlin didn’t exactly have anything against trips to the pub. Especially with a group of fit surfers.

“Great!” Gwaine didn’t remove his arm, and slung the other one round George’s shoulders. “Always good to have new blood. You’re going to love surfing!”

It didn’t really look as if Merlin was going to have any choice in the matter. He let himself be led back to the clubhouse, hoping he wasn’t going to end up too hungover in the morning.

There was a pub in Camelot-on-Sea called The Wipeout. Merlin had never actually been in it because it was always full of surfers. And tourists, in the summer, who were also annoying. But always, throughout the year, surfers.

“Gwaine!” the barman called as the surf school started to drift into the pub. Gwaine was leading the way, but Merlin suspected the fact that he had been singled out for a greeting indicated just how much time Gwaine probably spent in there.

“This your second home?” Merlin asked casually. Leon snorted, but Gwaine nodded as if it were a perfectly reasonable question.

“Percival’s an old college mate of mine,” Gwaine explained as they reached the bar. “Perce, this is Merlin, our latest recruit.”

Percival was huge - there was no getting away from it. No wonder Merlin had never heard of any trouble at The Wipeout. Nobody was going to argue with Percival. Still, he seemed nice enough, greeting them with a huge friendly smile and putting a pint down in front of Gwaine before his friend had even bothered to order.

The surfing crowd were a lot of fun. Even Merlin couldn’t deny that fact. Lance and Gwen were squashed up in a booth with most of the beginner class. Gwaine had kept Merlin with his little group of Leon, Elena and Morgana. George was quiet in that company, obviously a little shy when he wasn’t bossing someone around in a surfing lesson. Although next to Gwaine, anyone would probably seem quiet.

“Do you never stop talking?” Morgana asked him at one point.

“Maybe when I’m asleep,” Gwaine replied, giving her a suggestive leer. “Wanna find out?”

Morgana just rolled her eyes and looked across at Lance and Gwen despairingly. “My social life now is going to be a choice between sitting with the newbies or listening to Gwaine,” she complained. “Couldn’t any of you stop Gwen?”

“She’s your friend,” Gwaine pointed out.

Strictly speaking, though, she was also Merlin’s friend. And that seemed to occur to Morgana, who turned her speculative gaze on him.

“Not just mine. Merlin, text her and tell her you need rescuing from Gwaine and that she’s to get over here.”

“Won’t she then need rescuing from you, you harpy? They’re happy, so leave them alone.”

It was Arthur who had spoken. Merlin hadn’t noticed him come in, and his voice made Merlin jump. Morgana was Arthur’s sister, of course. Merlin couldn’t imagine anyone else ever speaking to Morgana like that. As Gwen’s friend, she had never been anything but nice to Merlin. However, he could sense the internal steel that would undoubtedly bring anyone who dared to cross her to their knees in a moment.

“Shut up, Arthur,” Morgana sighed. “And I see I was wrong. With your arrival my conversation options just took a further dip.”

Arthur, though, was just smirking at his sister. He doubtlessly thought he had said something very clever. He had changed into a casual green Henley and jeans, but somehow he managed to give off an air of wealth and importance. Merlin supposed that might just be psychological, from knowing how well-off Morgana was and naturally assuming the same of her brother. But it was in his air and the way that he stood. And, freshly showered and changed, he looked and smelled pretty damn good.

Of course, he had to go and get a drink and then sit down next to Merlin. It wasn’t even the only empty seat. There was one next to Morgana but Merlin couldn’t really blame Arthur for not taking that one given the love/hate thing they seemed to have going on. Except now he and Arthur were sitting so close together that it was difficult to concentrate on anything else except Arthur and the faint scent of his shower gel. Merlin didn’t recognise it. It was probably something very expensive.

Gwaine, seated on the other side of Merlin, nudged him. “Merlin?”

Belatedly, Merlin realised that he had missed a question. He shifted uncomfortably, aware that they were all waiting for an answer. “Um…”

“Elena was asking about whether you own a bookshop,” Arthur told him helpfully. “Bit of a random question, but that’s Elena for you.”

“Merlin works in that bookshop where Gwen’s café’s housed,” Elena pointed out. “That’s why I asked.”

“Technically it’s my uncle’s shop,” Merlin explained. “But I own half the business now. He retired and left me in charge.”

“Nice,” Gwaine told him. “Though personally I’d rather be given half a pub.”

“You’d drink all the profits,” Leon pointed out.

“Which you shouldn’t be doing in the run-up to the Olympics,” Arthur added.

“It’s three years away,” Gwaine protested, cradling his pint closer in case one of them decided to take it away. “Ages.”

Arthur gave a snort of irritation. “If you want to get on the team, you need to start working now.”

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably. He was stuck right between them if they started arguing. He wondered if it was too late to get up and move to Gwen and Lance’s table instead.

“You’ve got a beer too,” he pointed out to Arthur.

“One. Gwaine would drink a barrel of it in a single sitting given half the chance. In fact, he did try once.”

“There is no try,” Gwaine smirked, far too proud of himself. “It was a challenge during Fresher’s Week. I won.”

“You nearly died of alcohol poisoning!” Arthur protested.

“I won,” Gwaine repeated. “You and all the others lost. Deal with it.”

“You were at uni together?” Merlin asked. He had imagined Arthur would have gone somewhere posh and expensive. Oxbridge probably. Gwaine didn’t quite seem to fit the bill.

“We all were,” Leon told him. “Arthur, Gwaine, Lance and I. That’s how we met Gwaine and Lance, at that stupid competition. We had to help carry him out.”

“They’ve all been unable to resist me ever since!” Gwaine grinned.

“We all used to come down here in the holidays, Arthur and Morgana’s dad has a holiday home here. We all really got into surfing. Then after uni we set up Albion,” Leon continued. “It does okay, but it’s never going to make our fortunes. We’ve all still got day jobs.”

Soon enough, Merlin had learned all about the way that the four of them had set up Albion. Arthur and Leon had managed to secure a business loan. This was mostly due to the fact that they came from rich families and were seen by the banks as a good risk. None of them had particularly brilliant day jobs apart from Arthur, who apparently worked for his father’s company.

“He hates it,” Gwaine put in. “And his father hates the surfing.”

“He thinks it’s a waste of my time,” Arthur explained. “Thinks I should spend all my evenings working as well as all day. If the school made enough for us to live on, I’d be out of there in a heartbeat.”

“Is that why the newbie is having a charm offensive right now?” Merlin asked, smiling at them all to show that he was joking. Well, half-joking anyway.

“Definitely!” Arthur grinned back. “Is it working?”

It was, in ways Arthur probably couldn’t begin to imagine, but Merlin wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe.” Merlin picked up his half-empty glass and waggled it meaningfully at Arthur. “We’ll see. Mine’s a pint of Tribute.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then laughed. It was a rich, warm sound and Merlin felt a pang of regret when it ended. “Cheeky git! You own half a bookshop, you should be buying!”

“It’s only a little shop. Your father has a holiday home! And a business!”

“Don’t remind me about work,” Arthur groaned. “If I could afford to leave…”

“You should quit anyway,” Morgana told him. “I did. I’ve never regretted it.”

Morgana did something or other in the art world. Gwen had explained it to him once, but Merlin had glazed over and still wasn’t quite sure what it was. Something about buying and selling. Probably interesting if you were into art. Merlin wasn’t into art.

“What would you do?” Merlin asked Arthur. “If you had the chance to do any job, I mean.”

Arthur gave a wistful smile. “I’d surf. I mean, really. You can’t be a professional over here, but if I moved abroad I could do it. It would be amazing, just travelling around between competitions, looking for the perfect wave, giving tuition to earn a bit of extra money. But you need sponsors, and that would cause problems with my father because although he would never sponsor me himself, he’d be offended if I went with someone else. I don’t know. It’s just a pipe dream. Won’t ever happen.”

“Maybe when you win the Olympics?” Merlin suggested. “Gold medalists would get sponsorship.”

Arthur laughed again, then got to his feet. “Okay, now who’s doing the charm offensive? Pint of Tribute, right?”

He headed off to the bar, and Merlin turned to watch him go, still smiling. When Merlin swivelled back in his seat to face the others, he found Morgana frowning at him.

“What?” Merlin asked. “He can afford a pint.”

Morgana pursed her lips, still not looking happy. Leon and Gwaine were arguing loudly and good-naturedly over some football match, so she took the opportunity to lean closer and spoke in a lowered voice. “He’s just come out of a relationship. He might seem full of it, but he was really hurt. Just so we’re absolutely clear, Merlin, I’m not going to let anyone get away with hurting him again. Even if they’re Gwen’s friend too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“You were,” Morgana told him firmly. “And you’re not the one who had to pick up the pieces last time.”

That was more caring than Merlin would have expected from her. But he had no intention of hurting anyone.

“What if I’m the best thing that could ever happen to him?”

She did smile a little at that, which he was relieved about because he’d always quite liked Morgana.

“Then there won’t be anyone more delighted than me. But he’s too fragile right now, and I saw the way you were looking at each other. Just friends, okay?”

Merlin didn’t want to be anyone’s rebound date. And he didn’t really think he’d stand a chance with someone like Arthur anyway. He glanced back towards the bar. Arthur was talking to Percival. Merlin couldn’t blame him for that. Percival obviously took working out very seriously. But Arthur was being just as friendly to Percival as he had been to Merlin. There was no particular interest there. Morgana was just being overprotective. Shame.

“Okay,” Merlin sighed. “Just friends.”

He would probably get fed up with surfing soon enough and never see Arthur again anyway.

Probably.

 

By his third lesson, Merlin found his feelings about surfing starting to change.

He wasn’t going to admit it to anyone but he was starting to enjoy himself. George had a particular style of teaching which perhaps wasn’t the most exciting, but it worked for Merlin. George was slow and patient, and not afraid to go over a point again and again. And again.

“Push back on the tail with your heel, Merlin,” George urged as Merlin collapsed into the water yet again. “That acts as a brake and brings you to a stop. You need more control over your board. Watch me once more.”

George wasn’t the most adept of surfers, but he knew the basics. He demonstrated a clean surf, no fancy turns or anything, and at the end clearly pushed down with his foot. The nose of his board rose up sharply. George stopped and hopped off into the water very neatly.

“Now try again,” he urged.

Merlin paddled out to the line-up and waited for a suitable wave. He could see Lance’s class further down the beach. One girl seemed to be doing extremely well but the rest were no better than Merlin. That gave him a little hope.

“Merlin!” George called, bringing his attention back to what he should be doing. There was a decent wave building behind him.

Judging his timing had been difficult at first, but Merlin was getting better at it. He began to paddle, then at what he thought was the right time he stood up. Balancing was still hard, but this time he managed it. The force of the water pushed him forward.

“Good, Merlin!” George called. “Keep going! Good… good… now try the brake. Push down smoothly. Don’t jerk or you’ll lose your balance.”

Merlin pushed down with his heel, trying to keep steady on the board as he did so. It was a tiny bit wobbly, but he managed to stop and hop off into the water. He couldn’t help letting out a whoop of delight.

“Really good, Merlin!” George called. “Well done!”

Succeeding did feel good. Merlin picked up his board and headed back out for another try. Perhaps he could do this after all.

Spring blossomed into early summer, and the tourist season started to take hold.

Camelot-On-Sea’s main industry was tourism, so although the visitors were the most annoying thing ever for the locals, they were also the most essential. For Merlin, it meant that he needed to ensure that the latest trashy paperbacks were on display in prominent places. He did well out of holidaymakers who just wanted something light and cheerful to read while they topped up their tan. It was of course very wrong to take a book anywhere near a sandy beach but as these weren’t so much books as bubblegum for the mind, Merlin decided he could overlook it. Besides, many people were using e-readers now, and Merlin would take ‘proper’ book sales any way that he could.

Of course, he had to be restocking the large display of mental candy floss at the entrance to the café one Saturday morning just as Arthur decided to finally visit. And he had to be holding a copy of…

“Lust at Sea?” Arthur plucked the book from his hand and turned it over, laughing at the blurb on the back. “Really, Merlin, I thought you’d said this was an intellectual bookstore!”

Merlin had said no such thing, although he had admitted to treating the classical studies section with a lot more respect than he did the chick lit.

“It sells. Did you want a copy? We’re doing three for the price of two.”

“I’ll pass.” Arthur handed the book back. “I’m meeting Lance and Leon for lunch. We’ve got to start arranging the schedules for the summer. And apparently Gwen’s café is the only place Lance eats at these days. Hope it does more than just those famous cakes.”

“You should try them,” Merlin assured him. “Delicious.”

“Not in competition season.” Arthur looked past Merlin, into the café where Gwen was serving up drinks to a woman with two young children. The place was a lot fuller than the bookshop, and there were only two spare tables left. There was no sign of Lance or Leon yet. “I suppose I’d better grab a table before they all go. Do you want a coffee?”

Merlin would have loved a coffee. Well, not so much the coffee as the chance to sit down with Arthur without his over-protective sister hovering around. Merlin knew there was no serious chance for him with Arthur, but things had improved a lot since their first meeting and Arthur sometimes stopped by when Merlin was training to offer some tips or words of encouragement. Sitting down to chat over a coffee would have been great.

“There’s nobody to mind the shop,” Merlin explained sadly. “Freya just went on her lunch break, so I’m stuck. Sorry. Another time?” he added bravely, and was rewarded by seeing Arthur’s expression brighten.

“Definitely. You still owe me a drink,” Arthur reminded him.

It was a perfect lead-in. Merlin paused for a moment, gathering his courage to suggest that Arthur meet him for a drink in the pub sometime instead. But right at that moment Lance and Leon arrived, with a noisy Gwaine in tow, and the moment was lost.

“Another time,” was all Merlin managed before they were both swamped by friendly greetings and chatter. Reluctantly, he went back to work while the others piled into the café. It was one of those times when he wished that he didn’t have to work in a job that took up so many weekends. He could hear Gwaine’s loud laugh from the other side of the shop, and when he glanced into the café on occasion, the surfers always all seemed to be laughing at something or other.

All of them except Arthur, anyway. Arthur had his tablet out and was making notes on it. He looked a little detached from the others, almost sad at times. Merlin remembered what Morgana had said about the ex-boyfriend. It looked as if Arthur still wasn’t over him. Merlin watched for a moment or two, seeing how serious Arthur was with his friends while he was trying to organise the schedules for the summer. Leon looked as if he might be trying to help, but Lance spent most of the time distracted by Gwen and Gwaine obviously made a hobby out of being disruptive and distracting. Right then Gwaine let out another roar of laughter over some joke he’d made. Leon cuffed him round the ear. Arthur raised his head wearily, then saw Merlin watching.

It wasn’t Merlin’s imagination. Arthur rolled his eyes in Gwaine’s direction, then gave Merlin a small smile. It was like the sun coming out.

Merlin forgot about Morgana’s warning, about rebound relationship dangers, about everything. He couldn’t help himself. Arthur’s smile warmed him, and he couldn’t do anything but stand there like a love-struck idiot, grinning back. Damn.

“Excuse me, have you got book three of this?”

A customer, a tidy-looking woman probably in her thirties, disturbed him from his admiration. It was quite likely that she also saved him from doing something stupid and self-destructive - like heading into the café and snogging Arthur’s face off.

She was holding up a copy of _Eighty Shades of Purple_ , the latest trashy porn novel series to gain popularity. Merlin had noticed how many had turned up recently in the badly-named pre-loved charity collection box. If those books really were loved, then there was no way that anyone would part with them.

But generally the people who read those sorts of books didn’t frequent the charity shops, and anyway Merlin always made sure he donated the ones that he collected to a shop on the furthest side of town. He didn’t want competition for sales. Not when he had plenty of new copies of the god-awful thing.

“We certainly do. And number four is out on Monday. Would you like us to reserve you a copy? I understand it’s going to be every bit as good as the first three.”

The woman eagerly agreed. Monday morning was going to be busy. He already had fifteen reservations earmarked for eager customers. Just as long as the delivery turned up later as it was supposed to.

In fact, the delivery turned up earlier, just as Freya returned from lunch. Merlin reluctantly had to abandon his not-very-discreet excuses to hang around the café entrance in favour of dealing with the important order. Their main stockroom was in the basement, so he couldn’t even keep an eye out for when his new friends left. He’d hoped to pop into the café on a brief lunch break, but one look at the delivery told him it was going to be a long job. Gwen brought him down a sandwich and coffee, used to the routine.

“Haven’t had my cake yet today,” he reminded her.

“Later,” she promised. “Oh, and Arthur was asking where you’d vanished to. You two are quite friendly now, aren’t you?”

“I’m friendly with all the surfers,” Merlin pointed out. He tried to ignore the knowing smile that she was giving him. Gwen noticed far too much, always. “They’re all creeping round me, trying to increase the club membership. Do you know, Leon was trying to get me to join the BSA the other day? Me! As if!”

“They haven’t asked me to join,” Gwen noted. “They think you’ve got talent.”

“They know you’re bound to join up because of the whole Lance thing.”

Gwen huffed happily, then gave him a gentle tap on the arm. “Arthur says you’ve got potential,” she told him as she walked away. “I didn’t ask what it was potential _for_!”

Left alone, Merlin couldn’t help smiling at that last comment. Arthur thought he had potential. Arthur, who was currently third in the league behind Gwaine and another surfer, thought he was good. Of course, Gwen was implying that the potential was for something else entirely, but Merlin wasn’t going to let his hopes stray that far from reality. Much.

Merlin of course still despised surfing. He still hated seeing them all trailing sand through his shop on their way to the café. He only put up with them all for Gwen’s sake. The visits to the pub every week were an ordeal he had to endure because Gwen was his best friend. If he didn’t tag along, then she would be in a position where she had to choose between them. That would be horrible for her. And last week, when she couldn’t go, he was just making up numbers. Yes. Definitely.

His phone bleeped with an incoming text. It was Gwaine, sending a group message. “Wipeout at 9.”

It wasn’t even a question. The others would be surfing that afternoon and evening and be ready for a drink later. Merlin supposed that if he looked over at the ocean from his rooms later, he’d see them out there waiting for the perfect wave. He’d done that too many times now, trying to make out who was on the water. Gwaine and Arthur were unmistakeable, the blond and brunette often a little apart from the others. They were a little more daring, a little more skilful, more artistic. He could watch them from his bedroom window, pretending to himself that he was just picking up tips for his next session on the boards. Arthur was just so perfect to look at...

No, definitely not interested. Who was he trying to kid?

Merlin groaned to himself, knowing he had it bad.

The delivery took ages to work through. Checking it wasn’t so bad, but then Merlin had to start putting aside all the reserved books and those that weren’t officially released for a day or two. And then he needed to update the website and the shop blog. He’d have to think about something nice to say about the arrival of the latest volume in the Purple series. The things that sprang to mind wouldn’t help the bookshop gain repeat custom from those readers. And as there was already a tidy sum in advance sales, Merlin knew that he was going to have to swallow his pride and be polite.

There were footsteps on the stairs. It would be Gwen, with his afternoon treat, he supposed.

“Perfect timing, I’m starving!” he called out.

“I doubt that very much, considering Gwen brought down a massive sandwich for you just a few hours back.”

Arthur.

Merlin jumped up and tried to turn around at the same time. He ended up tipping his chair over, losing his balance and stumbling over in an ungainly heap. Arthur, of course, found that highly amusing and stood there laughing, making no attempt to help him up. Behind him, Gwen was coming down the stairs with the coffee and cake that Merlin had been expecting. She paused on the bottom step, frowning at the scene before her.

“Merlin, are you okay?” she asked kindly, but he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“He’s just tripped over his own big feet,” Arthur told her helpfully. “It’s a miracle he manages to stay on a surfboard!”

“Well if a clotpole like you can do it, it can’t be that hard,” Merlin grumbled, getting up and settling himself back in his chair. “What’re you doing down here anyway? Customers aren’t allowed in the stockroom.”

“I’m not a customer,” Arthur smugly reminded him. “I only read e-books.”

“We have an e-book service.” Merlin was actually quite proud of that fact. He’d brought in a stack of modern innovations, including ordering via the internet and a facility to download e-books with a cut for the shop. He’d also started stocking fancy stationery in the shop. Apparently the sight of a bookshop made many people want to reach for a notebook and start writing. Those were stocked near the entrance to the coffee shop because people liked to sit in there and write. Probably thought they were the next JK Rowling. He even had Gwen selling notebooks and pens in the café itself. They were never going to compete with Amazon, but they were managing better than many. “I’ll sign you up, shall I?”

“Isn’t that what Amazon’s for?” Arthur pointed out cheekily. “Bet you can’t beat their prices!”

“I give better service,” Merlin couldn’t help saying. He knew how he wanted Arthur to take that, and just to make it more obvious he lowered his gaze, then looked up at Arthur from beneath his lashes. Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared back. Perhaps that was a hungry expression on his face. Or perhaps Merlin was indulging in wishful thinking.

Gwen coughed loudly and unconvincingly, then bustled forward with Merlin’s treat. “Don’t mind me, just bringing the coffee!” she told them cheerfully. Merlin was sure she winked at him.

“What’s that?” Arthur eyed the delicious, moist, perfect cake that Gwen had just set in front of Merlin.

“Um… food?”

“That’s not food!” Arthur snatched the plate away, ignoring Merlin’s wail of protest. “If you’re going to be seriously competing, you need serious food.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “I’m not competing at all. Who said anything about competing? I’m just a beginner. I’ll have my cake please!” He held his hand out, but Arthur held onto the plate.

“That’s what I came down to talk to you about,” Arthur explained. “There’s a competition in a few weeks, one of the major ones. It’s doing a number of events, and one is for schools to enter their most promising beginners. People who’ve only been surfing for a few months. We’re putting one of Lance’s novices in, and I thought you could enter as George’s student.”

“A competition?” Merlin echoed. “I’m not ready for that.”

“But you will be,” Arthur told him confidently. “It’ll be great publicity for the school if one of you does well. We’ll start practicing this evening when you’re finished in here. Gwen,” he handed the delicious-looking cake back to her. “Take this. Can you make him a protein shake, and a sandwich… brown bread, obviously… egg or chicken salad if you’ve got it? No more cakes, feed him nut bars and yogurts from now on.”

“Yogurts?” Merlin repeated miserably.

“Yes. And nut bars. You should get those on the menu if you don’t have them already, much better than chocolate bars as a snack. In fact, give me your menu and I’ll make some alterations. You’ve got enough of the club coming in here regularly now that you need to do a surfer’s special.”

“We’re a bookshop café,” Gwen protested.

“Called Surf Sup! The clue’s in the name! You should be catering for us.”

“It’s a play on words,” Gwen offered weakly. “Because of the seaside… It’s always been called that, long before you lot started coming in. It was funny.”

“I want my cake,” Merlin growled. “I don’t want to take part in a competition. And I don’t have time for surfing today, Arthur. I’m busy working.”

Arthur had a way of pouting that was more than a little bit distracting. “But think of the school! You could do really well in the novice contest. And it’ll be so good for George’s confidence as a new teacher.”

George, Merlin had discovered, was being nurtured as a teacher because although he loved surfing, he had no style whatsoever and was never going to do well at the sport. He had a natural aptitude for seeing faults in others, however, and was quite good at teaching. Poor George hadn’t been told that he wasn’t any good at surfing because nobody wanted to hurt his feelings. Merlin had been quite impressed that the surfing friends had been considerate enough to find a way to make him a success. Until Arthur started manipulating him into taking part in some awful contest, that is.

“The thing is,” Arthur explained. “It’s more than just a competition. The senior challenge is looking for champions that can represent our country. But the junior challenge is looking for new, fresh talent coming up in the next few years. We need to do well in both challenges. If we can prove we’re worthy, we’ll get a lottery funding. As an official Olympic sport, surfing is eligible now.”

“But I thought Gwaine was top of the league? He’s bound to win the senior challenge.”

“He is. And I’m right behind him.”

Arthur was actually third, but Merlin decided not to point that out. Cenred, who ran Essetir School, was second, and it was a sore point. Arthur claimed he was more interested in getting ahead of Cenred than Gwaine, and nobody doubted that was the case. Gwaine, as part of Albion School, apparently didn’t count as a proper rival. Though Merlin supposed that Arthur would take any opportunity to better his friend as well. Arthur’s competitive spirit was impossible to contain.

“So, if you two are so good, surely that’s enough? It doesn’t matter what beginners do. Nobody is going to be good enough for 2020 if they’re only starting out now.”

“Wrong! We need to show that we’re nurturing young talent, putting something back into the sport. So having some good contestants in the first timers section will really help. And you’re the best, so we’re all going to work on you until you say yes. You might as well just give in now.”

“Yes, please do,” Gwen agreed. Merlin didn’t miss the weary tone in her voice. “I’ll just get onto that completely revised menu, shall I?”

“Thank you,” Arthur beamed, totally missing her sarcasm. “I’ll help if you like?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Gwen told him. She muttered something else as she left, but fortunately it was inaudible.

“She’s taken my cake,” Merlin noted sadly. “That was your fault.”

Arthur shrugged. “You’ll thank me when you don’t end up with a massive coronary. Really though, Merlin, if you eat all that cake all the time why aren’t you the size of a small hippo?”

“My brain uses a lot of energy,” Merlin replied. “You know, with all these books.”

“Hmm… I imagine packaging them up is pretty highbrow stuff.” Arthur settled himself down in the chair opposite Merlin. “How long before you’re finished? We need to start practising.”

“I’m busy,” Merlin told him again. “I don’t have time for surfing. This is a big order, and I need to write the shop blog as well. Ah, don’t read that, it’s not out yet!”

Arthur had picked up a copy of the new purple book and started flicking through it. “I think my brain might melt if I do! What is this? _She screamed her joy as his mighty sword of manmeat plundered her secret garden of pleasure…_ my god, Merlin, what are you selling here? People buy this?”

“It’s incomprehensibly popular,” Merlin shrugged. “Put it down, it’ll get dog-eared.”

Arthur smirked, but he put the book down. “I might need to wash my hands now,” he complained. “I feel a bit soiled!” He showed no signs of leaving any time soon. And he was very distracting, especially when he was reading about mighty swords of manmeat.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with the others?” Merlin attempted.

“Nope. They’ve gone on ahead. I’m supposed to fetch you. Think of the great waves we’re missing, Merlin. Look how dark it is in here. There isn’t even a window.”

“It’s a basement.”

“Yes! Come up into the sun! Think of that competition!”

“Which I’m not doing. And I’m working, Arthur.”

That did at least shut Arthur up for a few moments, but then he was off again. “I’ll help then. Where’s this blog? I’ll do a guest spot.”

“I have to write them.”

“Hah! No you don’t. I’ve read them, and you have guest bloggers on there a lot. Gwen did one, and that Freya girl did a few. And there were others. That one by IAmWill was… odd.”

Merlin wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or flattered that Arthur was taking enough interest to actually read the shop blog. It wasn’t something he expected Arthur to ever do. “It needs to be about books,” he reminded Arthur.

“I read books.”

“Ones that aren’t the abridged version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

“Funny.”

“Yep, needs to be that too.”

“What if I draft something, and you see if you approve? Can’t say fairer than that, and if you like it then you do the competition. Deal?”

Arthur was worse than Gwen, Merlin realised. Gwen bribed with cake, Arthur bribed with… well, just being Arthur really. Merlin was finding it very hard to say no to him.

“Go and get me my cake back, and I might think about it,” Merlin sighed.

Arthur just smiled. Merlin realised that the smug git probably already knew that he’d won.

 Arthur, surprisingly, wrote a pretty good blog.

He’d written mostly about the café from a surfer’s point of view, about how there were going to be surfer specials on the menu, and how Merlin was going to start stocking some obscure surfing journal. He also helped with some of the order packing, stole half of Merlin’s cake despite his claims earlier about no cake in competition season, and drank more coffee than could possibly be healthy. No wonder he was wired by the end of it.

“We’re done!” Arthur announced as the last book was packed away. “Surf time!” He was positively bouncing with enthusiasm.

And so Merlin found himself down on the beach early on Saturday evening, shivering slightly in the cool breeze that was coming in off the ocean. He changed into one of the club wetsuits and picked up his usual practice board.

“Ah, no,” Arthur immediately took the board away. “Time to move off the foamies.”

Merlin rather liked the foamies. They were light and stable and didn’t hurt when he fell off and the waves dashed him against them. He particularly liked the blue one that he always took out with him. “That’s my lucky board,” he protested. “I can’t change it.”

“You need a proper board if you’re going to compete,” Arthur pointed out. “You can’t win on one of those. You’ll get marked down for using it. You should buy your own eventually. You won’t want to use the club ones forever.”

“That sounds expensive. And I like that board.”

“It’s only a few hundred pounds to get your own.”

“Only a few hundred pounds…” Merlin gaped at Arthur. “Just for a bit of fibreglass or whatever they’re made of? Really?”

“You could buy one with the prize from the competition,” Arthur pointed out. “The one you’ll be taking part in has some sort of voucher for equipment. The idea is to help when you’re starting out in the sport. Let’s pick you one of these for now.” He put Merlin’s board back on the rack, looked at the others thoughtfully, and then pulled one out of the rack. “Hmm… try this one.”

Merlin reluctantly took the board from Arthur. It was heavier than the one he was used to and quite wide and long. It wasn’t going to look as cool as the shortboards that Gwaine and Arthur used. “It’s pretty big.”

“Makes it more buoyant. Easier to paddle and stand up on because it’s more stable. It takes a long time to progress to shortboards. Lots of surfers never do. So, let’s give the wax a quick top-up and then hit the beach.”

Merlin hadn’t tried his hand at waxing yet. The foamies didn’t need it, but he’d seen the more experienced surfers working on their boards with the bars of wax. He looked at Arthur blankly, secretly hoping that if he looked helpless enough then…

“Oh for goodness sake!” Arthur exclaimed. “Give it to me. Now watch what I do. We’re short on time today. This one only needs a top coat and comb. It won’t take too long.”

Merlin allowed the board to be taken from him and laid out on the nearby table. He wondered how many times he would be able to get away with looking helpless and pathetic and having Arthur do the waxing for him. He allowed himself a small smirk of triumph and then schooled his expression into something he hoped was more acceptable before standing on the opposite side of the table from Arthur, supposedly to observe.

“Are you watching?”

“Of course.” Merlin was always happy to watch Arthur, after all. He leaned in closer, trying to look fascinated. But really, this was rubbing a block of wax over a surfboard. How hard could it be? “This is to make it go faster, right?”

“No, _Mer-_ lin. The idea is actually to make it less slippery. It helps you stick to the board when you’re standing or lying on it. So, first we comb the deck…”

Merlin couldn’t help smiling at how fondly Arthur worked on the board. Arthur really did love surfing and everything about it.

“Now we apply the wax,” Arthur told him. “This is just a top coat, and you need to apply it every time you go out on a regular board.” He held up the block of wax for Merlin to see.

“Mr Zog’s _Sex_ wax?” Merlin exclaimed, for that was what was written on the wrapper. “Seriously?”

“It’s the best for your stick!” Arthur smirked, taking out the wax block. “Surfing is sexy, Merlin, didn’t you know?”

Merlin knew that Arthur was sexy, but he wasn’t going to make the prat even more bigheaded by saying so. He wasn’t sure about the wax though.

Arthur started to rub the wax over the board. “Try to get a few strips layered from the nose to the tail of the board. It stops your feet moving about too much. Got it?”

Merlin beamed at him, then moved his arms in a wide, exaggerated circle, impersonating Karate Kid. “Wax on… wax off…”

“Idiot.”

“Must be, if I’m agreeing to this competition.”

That stopped any arguments. Arthur’s smile looked half-relieved, half-pleased. “You’re going to do it then?”

Merlin shrugged. “Only way I’ll get any peace!” Also it meant he was going to spend a lot of time with Arthur, hopefully.

“That’s great! We’ll get Elena to send off the application. You’ll walk this.”

“Surf it,” Merlin corrected, but Arthur was already calling across the room to Elena, not listening to him.

“Elena! Merlin agreed, you can send our application off now!”

Across the room, Elena almost fell off her chair. She had been lounging back in it, tipping it on two legs. “Whoops!”

“Just send it to the right place,” Arthur sighed, picking up his board. “Come on, Merlin.”

“You already filled it in?” Merlin checked. “Bit presumptuous.” Arthur, he realised, was just doing that charm offensive thing after all. For a moment Merlin had hoped there might be something more. They’d had a laugh, working together in the bookstore. But it was all just a ploy to get him to agree to the contest.

“We hoped you’d say yes. And you did. Besides, you’ll be getting free lessons from me to make sure you’re ready. How could you resist?”

Merlin couldn’t. That was the trouble. He followed Arthur down to the beach, trying not to smile at all the silly, over-the-top-arrogant things Arthur was saying about his own teaching abilities as they walked. Arthur, he realised, was actually quite kind and funny, completely the opposite of the way that he had seemed when they first met.

“You’ll be so good at this by the time I’m finished with you that they’ll just give you the beginners’ trophy and tell the others to go home. I’ll probably get an award for excellence in surf instruction!”

“George is my instructor, remember? He’ll be getting the award. You’re maybe his teaching assistant or something.”

“Mentor, Merlin. I’m his mentor. I’ll insist he hands the award over to me!”

But Merlin knew that Arthur wouldn’t do any such thing to George and just let all the boasting wash over him like so much sea water. It was, he’d realised by then, all quite meaningless. Arthur wanted everyone in Albion to be a success, and if the entire school did well there would be nobody more pleased.

As teachers went, Arthur was surprisingly good. Merlin had found from the tips Arthur had given over the weeks that he really knew what he was talking about, but he hadn’t expected Arthur to also be fairly patient and go over things a couple of times if he felt Merlin wasn’t getting it.

“We’re going further along the beach,” Arthur announced after a while. “The waves are better.”

Merlin was quite happy with the gentler waves in sight of the clubhouse. “This is fine.”

“The competition is at Gawant. The waves there are twice the size of the ones here even on a calm day. You need to get used to more challenging conditions. And I’ll give you some balancing exercises that you can practice on land as well. We’ve only got four weeks to get you in shape. Come on.”

Arthur, being Arthur, didn’t even wait to see if Merlin agreed. He picked up his board and jogged down the beach, obviously assuming that Merlin would follow. Merlin considered leaving him to it, but he was enjoying spending time with Arthur, so he followed. Also, he didn’t particularly relish the idea of making a fool of himself at the contest and coming last or something equally humiliating.

Arthur was already paddling his board out to sea by the time Merlin got there. Leon and Gwaine were surfing there as well as a few others from the school. There was no sign of Lance, but that was hardly surprising. Arthur had mentioned that he was spending all his spare time with Gwen and was going to start dropping down the league if he didn’t put some practice in. Merlin was fairly sure that Lance wouldn’t care that much at the moment. He waved to the others, leashed his board, then followed Arthur out.

Arthur was right about the waves. They were considerably stronger, and it took Merlin a little while to get used to the change. But after a few successful attempts, Merlin felt a bit more confident. Arthur seemed happy with Merlin’s progress and was relaxing a little. They both sat astride their boards, out at the line-up point, watching the other surfers and just chilling on their boards for a while.

“The waves at Gawant are much stronger than this,” Arthur pointed out once again. “We’ll go down there before the competition. You should come with us.”

It was difficult when he had the shop to manage. But Freya was good, and Gaius liked to pop in from time to time to keep his hand in. Usually Merlin had to undo whatever mess Gaius had made of his system afterwards. But the thought of spending even more time with Arthur was very appealing.

“Okay. I’ll sort something out with the shop. Oh, what? What?”

Arthur was looking far too pleased with himself at Merlin’s response. Merlin suppressed the urge to shove him off his board. Barely.

“You’re enjoying surfing now!” Arthur pointed out. “You just gave in immediately.”

Merlin did lean over and push him off his board for that. Arthur went under, and stayed under. For a few moments Merlin looked around, but Arthur was nowhere to be seen. And then suddenly two arms flashed out of the water, reached out and pulled Merlin in.

Merlin knew he couldn’t even protest because he’d just done much the same thing to Arthur. Still, he wouldn’t be Merlin if he didn’t at least have a small grumble.

“What about Albion’s health and safety policies?” Merlin spluttered as he clambered back onto his board. “I should report you to Leon!”

Arthur, who had already got back on his own board, just replied by splashing him. That resulted in a very silly and noisy tit-for-tat battle that went on for several minutes.

“Oi! Kiddies!” Gwaine yelled. “Some of us are trying to practice. Go find a paddling pool! Or a room!”

Merlin flushed at that last bit and looked down, embarrassed. But when he raised his gaze to meet Arthur’s, he found his friend was just grinning back at him happily. Merlin felt his heart give a small lurch as he processed what the possible meaning of that could be.

“We should practice too,” he managed, lying down on his board and getting into position. “Only a few weeks to go.”

Arthur just smiled at him and watched as Merlin caught the next wave.

Merlin tried very hard not to fall. But he knew that he was going to.

As the light started to fade, Arthur announced that it was time to call it a night. It had been a good training session. Merlin knew he was improving no end. And Arthur was such a good surfer. Merlin watched as Arthur caught his last wave of the night, twisting and turning on the water, totally at one with his board and the sea. Merlin couldn’t help giving him a little round of applause when Arthur got off his board and met him in the shallows.

“Not bad!” Merlin told him. “Obviously I’m better though. I’ll give you a few pointers next time.”

“Next time?” Arthur repeated in mock surprise. “You assume I’ll tutor you again?”

“Gives you a chance to boss people around. No wonder you like it!”

Arthur just laughed at that. “And you’ll be back after all your denials.”

“Suppose so.”

“Admit it, Merlin,” Arthur crowed, reaching out and ruffling Merlin’s damp hair. “You had a great time this evening. You _love_ surfing. It’s in your blood now, and you’ll never get it out.”

Merlin just smiled a little self-consciously and shrugged. He thought he probably was falling a bit in love with something, and he was fairly sure it wasn’t the surfing. “It’s okay.”

Arthur laughed at him and slung his free arm round Merlin’s shoulders. “Okay, he says. You’re going to live and breathe the waves from now on, I swear. And you know it!”

They headed back to the clubhouse, warm from the exercise now that they were out of the cold water. Merlin was looking forward to a hot shower and some dinner. The Wipeout served food until 10pm so they should be okay to eat there. Leon was still out on the water, practising hard, but Gwaine had gone in earlier. They found him in the clubhouse, changed back into his clothes and just hanging around. Specifically, he was hanging around Elena, slouched in a chair next to her desk and swigging from a water bottle. Merlin hoped it actually did contain water, but with Gwaine you could never be sure.

“Shouldn’t you still be practising?” Arthur complained. “Only four weeks, Gwaine.”

Gwaine waggled the bottle at him. “Can’t now.”

So it wasn’t water.

“Besides,” Gwaine continued. “I was out there for hours. I’m knackered. I’m just helping Ellie now. All the details of the contest came back. We’re in. I was watching you earlier, Merlin. You’ll do really well. I’m going to bet on you to win your section. That girl Lance put in, Sefa or whatever her name is. She’s more polished but you’ve got something. You’ll be better in the long run, and the judges should see that.”

“Besides,” Arthur added. “We’ve got a month to beat you into shape. No more moping around in your dusty basement reading those dirty books, Merlin.”

“I don’t…”

“Dirty books?” Gwaine perked up. “My favourite kind!” He called across to Elena who was over at the printer in the corner. “Hey Ellie, you think you’d read to me? Merlin’s selling filthy books in his shop!”

The blonde girl picked up the pages she’d just printed off and wandered back over, managing to trip over what appeared to be nothing at all on the way. Merlin was glad he wasn’t the only one who did that. “The only thing I’m reading you is our confirmation of entry. Here.” She placed the pages on the desk face up. “Schedule for the weekend’s competitions and the latest rankings. I might’ve added it up wrongly, but it looks to me as if anyone in the top four could take the top slot with the points they’ll gain.”

“Not a chance,” Gwaine smirked. “That number one ranking is mine.”

Gwaine had been ahead by quite a lot last time Merlin had seen the rankings. He could see Gwaine’s name was still at the top of the list. The second-ranked person had closed the gap though. Arthur had gone very still. He was studying the list closely, blocking most of it from Merlin’s view.

“He’s moved up the rankings,” Arthur breathed, his voice sounding horribly sad in contrast to the laughter earlier. Merlin leaned around him, wanting to see the list properly. “Right behind me.”

Merlin had never taken much notice of the names in the league table that he didn’t recognise. G. Greene and A. Pendragon stood out at the top. L. Du Lac was at twenty-eighth, with L. Knight in fourteenth place. They were good, the Camelot quartet. Then there was C. King in second place between Gwaine and Arthur. Cenred. It was a name Merlin knew, although he had never actually met the man. In fourth place (right behind Arthur, just as Arthur had said) was M. Black. It could have been anyone. But Merlin would have known even without Arthur’s comment, would have known the moment he saw the look on Arthur’s face, that this had to be Mordred. Arthur’s ex.

Like Cenred, Mordred was listed against Essetir Surf School.

“Well, crap,” Gwaine said far too lightly, reaching over and taking the ranking list from Arthur. “You know none of them are competition for us, right. Here, Ellie, this needs putting away.”

Elena quickly grabbed the paper and shoved it into what looked like a completely random folder. But with Elena’s desk it was difficult to tell. The line between chaos and organisation was very, very fine.

“You two are going to win the competition,” Elena assured them. “You’re the best, you know that.”

“Yep!” Gwaine agreed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Not you!” Elena smacked him on the arm but that didn’t wipe the smug expression from his face.

 “You just said I was!” Gwaine protested.

“I just meant Arthur. Obviously _you’ll_ fall off your board with all that posing you do!”

“It’ll be me that falls off, right Arthur?” Merlin put in, trying to get his friend to join in with the banter.

“I suppose so,” Arthur replied absently.

Gwaine looked at Arthur worriedly for a moment, then slapped Merlin on the back, smiling a little too cheerfully even for Gwaine. “We’re all going for drinks now, right?” he asked. “Merlin, you’re in?”

“Yeah, and food too, I’m starving,” Merlin agreed eagerly. He wanted to spend the evening with Arthur, to attempt to get him back into the light-hearted, happy person who’d been such fun to be with out on the waves. “Arthur stole most of my cake earlier!”

Arthur didn’t react at all to that, still looking sadly down at the folder that held the list of names. Merlin wanted to hold him, to hug all the hurt away, but he was afraid that Arthur would just push him away.

“What about you, Arthur?” Gwaine asked when no response was forthcoming.

“I’m not really hungry and… I need to practice if I’m going to beat them.”

“It’s Saturday night!” Gwaine protested. “You’ve already practised, Saturday night is for socialising! For friends! For alcohol!”

“I’m not really in the mood.” Arthur picked up his board and turned away. “You go, have a drink for me. You did really well today, Merlin. I’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”

“Arthur…” Gwaine called, but Arthur was already heading for the door. “Come on, he’s not worth it…”

The door swung closed behind Arthur’s retreating form.

“Damn,” Gwaine ran his hand through his long, damp hair in a frustrated gesture. “I thought he was getting over it.” He frowned at Merlin. “I _really_ thought he was moving on to better things. I guess I was wrong. Damn.”

Elena looked sadly at the door, then up at Gwaine. “It’s going to take time. He was really hurt.”

“He’s had nearly six months. Time to get back in the game.”

“This Mordred,” Merlin began hesitantly, knowing it was none of his business but needing to know. “What’s the story there? I mean, obviously he’s really hurt Arthur. But Arthur’s really good-looking. He could have his pick.”

“Yeah,” Gwaine sighed. “But his pick was Mordred. Arthur’s funny like that. Seems all arrogant and full of himself, doesn’t he?”

“Not once you get to know him,” Merlin admitted. “But at first, yes.”

“Mmm… Well, Mordred was a surfer here. New member like you, and really good. He’d moved down from Wales, been surfing there for years. He and Arthur got together pretty quickly, and it was all good for a while. Mordred moved into Arthur’s place, then a few months later they got engaged. They both seemed really happy. Well, Arthur did. Mordred was always a bit straight-faced, and it was hard to tell.”

“So what went wrong?” Merlin asked, trying to quell the surge of jealousy that he felt towards Mordred. Engaged. It was even worse than he’d thought.

“There was the end of season surfing festival. All the clubs were there. Mordred met Cenred, they had an affair. Arthur found out and told Mordred to choose. Mordred chose Cenred. I think Mordred felt bad about it, but like I said, always so po-faced that it was hard to tell!”

“Mordred moved over to Essetir pretty much immediately,” Elena put in. “And good riddance!”

“Yeah, he found Albion too restricting. Health and safety and all that crap. Essetir aren’t so bothered about it.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Merlin said, with feeling. “Though you do some risky stuff.” He’d seen Gwaine out on the water. There was a reason why he was number one.

“There’s a difference between daring and dangerous,” Gwaine defended.

“A very fine line,” Elena added, smiling at Gwaine fondly.

Merlin was never quite sure if the two of them were together or not. Gwen said not, but their body language and the fact that they never seemed to be apart for long said otherwise. Gwaine was smiling back at her with a besotted look on his face. Merlin wondered if they might be about to forget he was there. He gave a little cough, and Elena looked away from Gwaine guiltily. She became very interested in the files on her desk. Gwaine just lounged further back in his chair and stretched lazily.

“Yeah, so that’s the story,” Gwaine told him. “Arthur’s a great guy. He didn’t deserve any of it. Someone” -and he eyed Merlin meaningfully as he said it- “would be lucky to have him. Someone with a heart, who’d love and appreciate him. You know anyone like that, Merlin? Wouldn’t want anyone to miss out on something amazing.”

Merlin felt his face flush and looked down for a moment. Elena was still shuffling papers quite unnecessarily. Hmmm…

“No,” Merlin agreed, tilting his head towards Elena just as meaningfully as the look Gwaine had given him. “That would be terrible. You two just carry on with your _paperwork_ or whatever you’re calling it. I’m going to shower and change. See you in The Wipeout later.”

Apparently it _was_ possible to shut Gwaine up.

When Merlin arrived at The Wipeout a little later, most of the regulars were already there. He’d gone home to change, one of the many benefits of living so close. Gwaine, Elena, Gwen, Leon and Lance were sitting around the circular table near the window. It had a great view of the ocean and was their table of choice whenever possible.

There was no sign of Arthur. Merlin tried to quell the feeling of disappointment. He’d hoped Arthur would have changed his mind. They’d had such a good time together. Apparently, it had meant more to him than it had to Arthur.

“Merlin!” Gwaine exclaimed as soon as Merlin sat down. “Great timing! You’re one of us now. That means it’s your round. Newest recruit gets the drinks in, that’s the law, right guys?”

Everyone around the table nodded sagely, as if they really thought that Merlin was stupid enough to fall for that.

“I thought it was that the newest recruit doesn’t have to buy any drinks because everyone wants them to feel welcome and comfortable,” Merlin replied. “And, you know, make them feel like they want to make complete idiots of themselves in some godawful contest. So, pint of bitter please. Thanks Gwaine.”

Gwaine, to his credit, just laughed. “Well, you can at least help me carry them, mate,” he told Merlin. Merlin was happy enough with that and followed him to the bar.

“So,” Gwaine began, as they stood waiting to be served. “You and Arthur looked pretty friendly earlier. You see something you like there, my friend?”

Merlin did, but he wasn’t going to admit that to someone as gossipy as Gwaine. “We get along.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“No, but it’s what I answered.”

“Are you telling me to mind my own business, my friend?” Gwaine laughed. “It won’t work, you know?”

Merlin sighed, knowing that was the truth. “I don’t think Arthur’s looking for anyone at the moment.”

“Maybe not. My old nan used to say that you found the best things in life when you weren’t looking for them. Arthur looked happier with you today than I’ve seen him in months. So, again, did _you_ see something you liked today? Because if you didn’t, then you should give him a wide berth. I don’t want to see him hurt again. But if you _did_ … Ah, come on Merlin, tell me you did.”

“Maybe,” Merlin admitted reluctantly.

“Hah!” Gwaine slapped him on the back delightedly. Merlin wondered how many bruises he was going to end up with by the end of the night. “I knew it! Well then, you just leave it with your Uncle Gwaine! I’m going to sort this out good and proper. And then just remember I’m available for Best Man duties! Dead good too!”

Merlin managed a smile, but he had a sudden sense of dread. Gwaine sorting it out could mean absolutely anything. He doubted it would be long before he found out exactly what.

The next four weeks passed by far too quickly.

It wasn’t that Merlin was dreading the competition, but… no, he _was_ dreading it.

So far, Gwaine hadn’t really followed through on his threat to ‘help’ Merlin and Arthur along, apart from regularly dropping embarrassing hints. Merlin hoped that he would do it when Morgana was around as she was bound to put an immediate stop to it. She hadn’t repeated her ‘talk’ with Merlin, but he still caught her watching him sometimes almost appraisingly. It was a little nerve-wracking as he’d always found her a bit scary. Still, it was nothing compared to how scary the upcoming competition was.

George continued to train him once a week, though even Merlin could tell that there was little left that George could teach him. On Saturdays Arthur took over, although that wasn’t as much fun as it had been before Arthur had realised how well Mordred was doing. Arthur pushed Merlin hard, producing a marked improvement. He even included Merlin in a group trip to Gawant to get used to the waves there. It had only been an hour-and-a-half drive, but they’d all agreed it would be better if they stayed over when it was time for the actual competition rather than risk getting stuck in traffic.

“We can camp!” Gwaine announced from his usual seat at The Wipeout. “It’ll be fun!”

Morgana turned her nose up at that idea and immediately booked herself and Leon into the nearest Five Kingdoms Inn, much to George’s dismay as he hadn’t realised until then that the two of them had got together.

“The rest of us are camping though, right?” Gwaine asked hopefully.

George elected to drive there and back each day as he wasn’t competing and wasn’t keen on camping. He was persuaded to give Sefa, Lance’s competing pupil, a lift. Lance didn’t care where they stayed as long as Gwen was with him and was happy to camp. That left Gwaine, Arthur, Merlin and Elena.

“Elena and Gwen could share a tent,” Arthur suggested. “And Lance could share with Merlin.”

Lance’s face fell.

“Dream on,” Gwen told Arthur. “Elena can have a tent to herself. My brother’s coming down that weekend. I think he wants to check Lance out. So he can share with Merlin. And you and Gwaine can share. There. Sorted.”

Gwen’s brother Elyan was a brilliant surfer. Legendary amongst the Camelot-On-Sea group for having moved to Australia several years ago and taken the sport up professionally. None of them actually knew him except by reputation, so it made sense for him to share with Merlin. Still, it was disappointing not to share with Arthur. Not that it had been on the cards. Arthur’s own suggestion had implied that he himself would be sharing with Gwaine. Merlin tried not to feel at all hurt by that. After all, Arthur and Gwaine were the best of friends and had known each other for years. It made sense that they would share. Rotten, miserable sense.

“Great!” Gwaine exclaimed. “Can’t wait to meet him, Gwen. I’ve heard good things. So, Arthur, are you bringing the Harry Potter tent?”

Merlin perked up at that. “Harry Potter?”

Gwen groaned. “Oh no, Merlin’s a big fan.”

“Well he would be, it’s a book!” Arthur grinned. “So you don’t just read the dirty ones then, Merlin?”

“That was you!” Merlin reminded him. “Anyway, explain the reference.”

Arthur sighed. “Gwaine calls it my Harry Potter tent because he thinks it’s ridiculously huge. And for once he’s right. It was really embarrassing. There was a camping trip we all went on one weekend at uni, right at the end of our exams. My last paper was on the day we were going, so I was busy studying. My father kindly said he’d go and get me a tent to save me the bother.”

“It was so that Arthur wouldn’t take any breaks from revising,” Lance corrected.

“Yes. Well I didn’t see what he bought. His assistant dropped it off that morning. Everything was already loaded into Leon’s car when I got out of the exam. So we drove to the campsite, unpacked it, and only then discovered that it was the size of a small house.”

“It’s lush!” Gwaine agreed. “Actually, all of us could fit in there no problem. It has _bedrooms_!”

“Sleep pods,” Arthur corrected but Gwaine wasn’t listening.

“It’s just like the giant magic tents on that Harry Potter movie!”

“Yes, except it’s huge outside as well,” Arthur reminded him. “It takes up so much space that sometimes I have to pay for two places.”

“But we’re taking it, yeah?” Gwaine checked.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. “As Merlin’s such a big fan.”

It meant that there was a good chance of spending a lot of non-surfing time with Arthur, even if they weren’t in the same sleep pod or whatever. Merlin was a _huge_ fan.

Friday evening of the competition weekend arrived. Merlin was not ready.

First of all, he wasn’t ready to leave the shop in Freya’s very capable hands. He knew he was over-worrying, but his Uncle Gaius had got wind of the fact that Merlin was away and had volunteered to help Freya out. Worse, he was bringing his bestie, Geoffrey, along. The business was doomed.

Freya kept assuring him that it would be fine, but the poor girl had no idea what she was letting herself in for.

“Don’t let either of them near the new till,” Merlin warned. “Uncle Gaius fiddles. He thinks he knows what he’s doing but he hasn’t got a clue. I had to completely reset it last time he got his hands on it. I’d only popped to the loo!”

“No till, right,” Freya agreed wearily. “And I’m not to let them into the stockroom, or behind the counter in Surf Sup, or anywhere near the computers. Don’t worry, Merlin, it’ll be fine.”

“What about rearranging the stocks? Uncle Gaius doesn’t like the stationery and tried to take it all down last time he was in here.”

“Percy’s on standby. He’s promised to come over and flex his muscles if there’s any trouble. Hmm… I might call him anyway!”

She probably would, Merlin knew. Freya often hung out at The Wipeout with her own group of friends, and there did seem to be a little romance blossoming. The trouble was, romance seemed to be blossoming for everyone except Merlin.

“Just keep them under control,” Merlin urged. “Call me if there are any problems. You’ve got…”

“Yes! I’ve got your number. And Gwen’s. I’ll be fine. Now shoo! And bring back a trophy. I’ve made a space for it, look!” She waved her hand at the now half-empty shelf on the wall behind the counter. “It’ll be great for business.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Merlin warned. “And just make sure there’s still a business left!”

Uncle Gaius might have run the shop for several decades, but he knew nothing about the modern improvements that Merlin had put in. Plus he’d pretty much run it into the ground, business-wise, before Merlin took over.

Outside a car horn sounded loudly. Gwaine, no doubt, being impatient. Reluctantly Merlin picked up his bag and headed for the door, almost crashing into Gaius and Geoffrey as they arrived.

“Merlin! My dear boy! We’re here in time to wish you luck!” Gaius exclaimed, greeting him with a huge hug.

“Just don’t destroy the business,” Merlin pleaded. “Listen to Freya.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Geoffrey boomed happily. “We’ve come prepared. We’ve done an IT course at the local college!”

Oh _no…_ Merlin looked back at Freya helplessly, _really_ not wanting to go now. But she made a shooing gesture, and outside Gwaine leaned on the horn once more.

“Off you go,” Gaius urged.

Despairing, Merlin went.

“You all realise I’ll have no business to come back to, don’t you?” he grumbled as he climbed into the minibus that they’d hired for the weekend.

“Ah, stop moaning and belt up,” Gwaine ordered unsympathetically. “We’re off on holiday _and_ on a quest for glory!”

Merlin looked to Arthur for help, but his friend just shrugged. Still, the seat next to him was free so Merlin took that one. He hadn’t even secured his seatbelt before Gwaine lurched the bus into gear and headed off.

Gwaine was driving with Leon riding shotgun. It made for an interesting journey.

“That was a red light, Gwaine!”

“Are you colour-blind? Red light again!”

“Oh my god! Did you even _see_ that give way sign?”

“Forty! It’s the speed limit, not an advisory note!”

“It’s a mini _round_ about not an _over_ about! Jesus, Gwaine!”

That last one was worryingly high-pitched.

“Want to swap, Leon?” Lance offered.

“Yes! Stop the bus, Gwaine.”

“No stopping. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can start partying!” Gwaine told them and sped up a little bit more.

“Are they always like this?” Merlin whispered to Arthur.

“They’re not good cooped up,” Arthur admitted. “Better on the water.”

Merlin wasn’t sure being in a minibus that was travelling through beautiful countryside counted as being cooped up, but didn’t comment.

“We’ll have a singalong to make the time go quicker,” Gwaine announced. “Oh, the wheels on the bus go round and round…”

He was off-key and awful, and on top of that he was swaying from side to side happily in what he probably thought was in time with the song. It wasn’t. Suddenly Merlin saw exactly what Arthur meant about being cooped up. Gwaine’s singing was like some awful form of torture.

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Leon pleaded. “You’re hurting my ears.”

Gwaine sang louder and even more off-key, if that were possible, egged on by the fact that it was making Elena laugh.

Merlin was beginning to see why Morgana had said she would drive up by herself later…

“Are we nearly there yet?” he called hopefully.

They weren’t.

Just as Gwaine had promised, the Harry Potter tent was amazing. It was at least four times the size of any tent Merlin had ever slept in before and was indeed more like a small house.

“Ridiculous,” Arthur kept saying as they put it up. Merlin had the distinct impression that Arthur would rather have had the pokey little thing that they had erected for Elena.

“It’s amazing,” Merlin told him. “Honestly, I’ve never seen a tent like it. Is this glamping? Are we glamping?”

“Probably,” Arthur admitted.

“Arthur’s one big glamp, aren’t you buddy?” Gwaine announced, slapping Arthur on the back. “Glamping’s his middle name! And as you’re the virgin glamper, Merlin, _you_ get to have first pick of the sleep pods.”

Merlin was still not quite sure what those were and said as much.

“The bedrooms!” Gwaine told him.

“They’re the zipped-off compartments at the back, Merlin,” Arthur told him. “They all sleep two so you’ll get it to yourself tonight but when Elyan joins us tomorrow then you’ll be sharing. I should take the end one if I were you. You’ll want to be as far away from Lance and Gwen as possible. In fact, I don’t see why they can’t get their own tent. Or swap with Elena. Why can’t she be in here instead?”

There was no answer to that. Both Gwaine and Elena had been very keen that she have her own tent. Gwaine claimed it was because a lady shouldn’t have to share with a load of unwashed men. He also claimed that it would be nicer for Arthur to have a pod to himself and that out of kindness to his friend he was going to sleep out in the living room equivalent at the front of the tent. It didn’t take a genius to work out what was going on there.

“Nicer, Arthur,” Gwaine repeated.

Merlin just rolled his eyes at Arthur, who laughed.

“I bet it is,” Arthur grinned. “Okay, let Merlin have the end one. Elyan’s probably not going to want to join us anyway. Not with his sister shacked up with her boyfriend on the other side of the tent.”

That was true. Also Leon had mentioned something earlier about Elyan being dragged in as one of the judges at the last minute. He probably wouldn’t be _allowed_ to stay with the competitors and would possibly get put up in a hotel or something. Not that Merlin didn’t like Elyan. It was just that now he was faced with the prospect of sleeping practically right next to Arthur. Arthur most likely without Gwaine around and with Lance and Gwen completely distracted. Arthur with just a piece of tent canvas between them. For the first night, anyway.

Merlin just smiled back at Arthur and kept his fingers crossed.

Camping with the Albion surfers was a lot of fun.

There was a lot less alcohol consumed than Merlin had expected, mostly because Gwaine and Arthur had their first heat the following morning and weren’t partaking. Or Arthur wasn’t partaking at least, and Gwaine was drinking considerably less than usual. Leon kept handing him the water bottle. It was hard not to laugh at the affronted look that Gwaine gave him every single time.

Morgana joined them for a few hours, suspiciously soon after they’d finished putting up the tent and just in time for the barbeque. She claimed it was because she’d been busy checking into the hotel, but there were a number of designer shopping bags on the back seat of her car. She made a beeline for her brother and, on seeing Arthur stashing his sleeping bag in the pod next to Merlin, she’d raised an eyebrow. Merlin had braced himself for another warning, but instead she’d actually smiled at him immediately afterwards. There was no repeat of the threats that she’d made when he’d first joined the surfing group. It was almost as if she’d given him her approval, although not in so many words. Or perhaps it was Leon’s influence, as Leon definitely liked Merlin. Particularly since Merlin had agreed to take part in that weekend’s competition. Whatever it was that had caused the change, Merlin was glad of it. He couldn’t help his feelings for Arthur and had long since decided that if there was any chance that they might get together, then he was going to take it.

The barbeque smelled amazing, but Merlin soon discovered a new drawback to surfing.

“Who’s first?” Lance called, holding up a plate with a juicy burger on it. Merlin started to respond, but Arthur stopped him.

“Er, no. Competition tomorrow, remember?”

“I have to eat.”

“Yes.” Arthur guided him into the main part of the tent, where they had a small chiller cabinet. “Our food is here.”

To Merlin’s dismay, Arthur brought out a couple of boxes of pre-made chicken and couscous salad and handed one over. “Dinner.”

Merlin pulled a face. “Yum.”

“Only tonight for you. Tomorrow you can eat all the rubbish you want. This is champion’s food.”

Merlin flipped open the lid. It didn’t look like champion’s food. “Looks more like rabbit food,” he grumbled as the delicious smell of bacon drifted into the tent.

“Just eat it.”

At least Arthur had to eat it as well. Although for some reason Gwaine and the others seemed to be allowed burgers and bacon. Merlin supposed that Arthur had given up trying where Gwaine was concerned, and the rest of them had just joined his food rebellion. And anyway, it meant that Arthur sat with Merlin for the evening, united in their wholesome and somewhat boring dinner. Merlin made a mental note that the following night he would sit with Arthur again and make a big thing of enjoying a massive bacon roll or cheeseburger. That would be payback.

“I didn’t know rabbits were good surfers,” he commented.

“They’re the best,” Arthur replied, deadpan. “Stop complaining and eat up.”

Merlin watched Gwaine happily chewing his bacon roll. Gwaine noticed him looking and started to make more of it, licking his lips and rubbing his stomach in obvious relish.

“Come over to the dark side, Merlin!” Gwaine called. “We have bacon! Mmmm… Ow!”

Leon cuffed him round the head.

“Leave him alone. You’re doing the right thing, Merlin. We’ll cook you a steak tomorrow to celebrate.”

Merlin liked Leon. He supposed that he could cope with the salad, for one night at least.

The sleeping pods, as Arthur insisted the bedrooms had to be called, were as roomy as the rest of the tent. Merlin had only camped a couple of times in his life and never in a tent that even had a fixed groundsheet let alone separate sleeping compartments. He settled down in the one he’d been given and tried to get comfortable. The ground was hard beneath his sleeping mat, and, no matter which way he turned, there seemed to be a little stone or ridge that insisted on digging into him.

“Stop fidgeting, Merlin,” Arthur called from the other side of the partition. “Go to sleep.”

“I would if I could get comfortable! Did you look for the stoniest ground to put this part of the tent up on? Is that why I had to have this compartment?”

There was a rustling sound from the other side of the canvas, then suddenly the partition was unzipped and Arthur’s face appeared in the gap. “Just use the spare sleeping mat as well. Honestly Merlin, what are you like? Auditioning for the Princess and the Pea?”

The empty space beside Merlin where Elyan was supposed to be sleeping the following night did have all the spare bedding in place. A little annoyed that he hadn’t thought of it himself, Merlin rearranged the mats so that he was sleeping on two. It did make a considerable difference.

“Better?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. Now it’s just the Princess and the Prat.”

“Oh, so you admit you’re a princess!”

“I admit you’re a prat!”

“Hah!”

There was a lot more rustling, then the entire partition fell away.

“What’re you doing?” Merlin asked as Arthur started gathering up his own bedding. Arthur, Merlin noticed, had already been sleeping on two mats.

“You’re obviously incapable of camping by yourself, so I’m babysitting.” Arthur spread his bedding in Elyan’s slot right next to Merlin. “Just in case you need any more help.”

Merlin couldn’t quite believe his luck. Still, he wasn’t going to tell Arthur that. Instead he tried to think of something clever to say, but that was difficult with Arthur lying down so closely beside him.

“Prat.”

“Princess.”

“Oh shut up both of you!” Gwaine called from outside. “And if you’re going to shag, keep it down.”

It was hard to tell in the dim lighting around the tent, but Merlin thought Arthur might be blushing. He looked embarrassed, anyway.

“Night Gwaine,” was all he said in reply.

For a while everything was quiet. Merlin thought he could hear Gwaine moving around in the living area, but then he went silent. Perhaps he’d gone to sleep. More likely he’d left their tent and gone to visit Elena’s.

There was a feminine giggle from the other side of the tent. Merlin shifted uncomfortably. Surely Lance and Gwen wouldn’t… Not with the rest of them right there? There was another giggle, and then a soft moan.

“Oh no,” Arthur whispered. “Tell me we won’t have to hear them having sex.”

There was a deep groan from across the tent.

“I think we’re going to,” Merlin sighed. “Oh god, like I need to feel any more like a sad singleton. I really don’t want to listen to my best friend getting laid.”

“Sad singleton, is it?” Arthur asked. “Me too, and they both know it. Right, how about we teach them a lesson in being inconsiderate? Are you up for messing about?”

Merlin was well up for messing about, but he doubted that was going to be quite what Arthur meant. “Maybe… what did you have in mind?”

Arthur grinned at him, then let out a deep, filthy moan that went straight to Merlin’s cock. Okay, he could do without this.

“Ohhh…. Merlin…. That’s so good…”

Merlin gaped at him for a moment. “What are you doing?”

“Shh, just go with it,” Arthur hissed. “God, Merlin… yes…”

“Arthur…” Merlin moaned experimentally, then carried on when Arthur nodded at him enthusiastically. “Oh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhh… Yes! Yes!”

“Been watching When Harry Met Sally?” Arthur whispered, then continued with his over-loud moaning and groaning. “Merlin… god, your tongue is so… Ohh..”

“I’m not going to be able to stand up tomorrow!”

“Shut up!” Lance called from across the tent. They ignored him.

“Ohhh…” Arthur groaned loudly. “Ohhh… Merlin! Yes…. Just like that! There… yes…. Ohhh yesss!”

Merlin shoved his fist into his mouth, trying not to laugh as Arthur kept up his pornographic dialogue.

“Is it good for you too, Merlin? Ohhh…” Arthur nudged him, and Merlin picked up his cue.

“So good… Faster Arthur, harder! Oh my god! Arthur… ohhhh… Arthur!”

It had gone very quiet on the other side of the tent. Merlin found it impossible not to laugh, and Arthur immediately joined in.

“You two really aren’t funny!” Lance growled.

Merlin bit back another laugh, but Arthur didn’t and just roared. It was a wonderful rich warm sound to hear.

“At least it shut you two up,” Merlin told them. “Now let us sleep. We’ve got a tournament to win.”

“Maybe if you’d _actually_ just shagged each other, you’d leave us alone,” Gwen grumbled.

Arthur laughed again at that, but only briefly, and Merlin could tell that it was just for show. But then he shifted a little closer to Merlin and gave a deep sigh. “Now there’s an idea,” he whispered. He seemed to be settling down for the night right next to Merlin. “You really are the most fun, Merlin. You really are.”

Then Arthur kissed him on the forehead, brief and chaste. And while Merlin was still trying to make out what that was supposed to mean, Arthur fell asleep.

 Arthur wasn’t there when Merlin woke up.

It was disappointing, but not really unexpected. But when he found that Arthur wasn’t even anywhere to be found on the campsite, Merlin did start to worry.

“He’s gone with Gwaine,” Gwen told him kindly, pushing a steaming mug of coffee into his hands. She knew him so well that he didn’t even need to explain to her why he was looking concerned. “They crept out this morning to practice. Tried not to wake us but Gwaine fell over one of the tent pegs. They’ll meet us on the beach later.”

That was something, at least. But really, Merlin could have done with having Arthur there to help him cope with his rising nervousness about the competition. He knew Arthur and Gwaine had a heat at midday, and that the beginners’ competition was just a showcase thing really at the end of the day. Of course they had to be out there practicing.

Merlin smiled and tried to look as if it wasn’t bothering him.

Down on the beach later, there was still no sign of Arthur. Gwaine had finished practicing and was hanging around waiting for the rest of them to arrive, but Arthur had vanished. It was annoying, and a bit insulting, Merlin thought. After all, they hadn’t actually done anything other than joke around, no matter how much Merlin would have liked the situation to have been different. He tried not to think about it, concentrating instead on what Gwaine was saying to Lance about the competition conditions. But it was difficult not to remember how Arthur had sounded and impossible not to use it as a soundtrack to his fantasies about the man.

“There’s Mordred. And Cenred,” Leon said suddenly.

Merlin followed Leon’s gaze and saw two dark-haired surfers walking up from the sea, each with a board tucked under their arm. The older of the two had long dark hair slicked back and tied up in a man bun. Merlin was never sure how anyone thought those looked good. It was Cenred, the owner of Essetir School. Merlin recognised him from publicity leaflets that Gwaine and Elena had been defacing. So that meant that the younger, shorter man had to be Mordred.

His pale skin was slightly sunburned, and his dark hair curled around his face. He was handsome, as Merlin had known he would be. But what Merlin couldn’t understand was why on earth anyone in their right mind would give up Arthur in favour of Cenred. Maybe Mordred had a thing for man buns? Merlin preferred Arthur’s buns, definitely.

George appeared at that moment and started giving Merlin some last minute training and advice. Merlin tried to concentrate on that and not to dwell on Mordred or worry about where Arthur might be. It was difficult, but he really did want to do as well as he could. Apart from anything, Merlin had no wish to make a fool of himself in public.

Finally, it was time for the first heat of the men’s main competition. And that was when Merlin saw Arthur and realised where he had been.

Arthur was standing over near the refreshments area with Mordred, talking.

Their heads were bent close together, and Mordred had his hand on Arthur’s back. To all intents and purposes they looked like a couple of good friends catching up. But Merlin knew there was more to it than that. Mordred was, after all, the love of Arthur’s life. He’d broken Arthur’s heart, and Merlin thought that if Arthur had a chance to get back with him then he would most likely take it.

“Arthur!” Leon yelled, waving him over. Merlin took a deep breath, knowing he was going to have to pretend everything was okay. After all, it wasn’t as if he had any claims on Arthur. They’d only been clowning around the previous night.

Arthur jogged over to them. He was already suited up, and his board was on the racks reserved for competitors.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Leon demanded.

“Just talking.”

“To _Mordred!_ Right before the competition. Arthur, they’re just trying to distract you. Stay away from him. If he comes up to you again just walk away.”

“I went up to _him_ ,” Arthur corrected. “I’ve got to stand between him and Cenred in a few minutes. I just thought it would be better to break the ice first.”

Leon stared at him worriedly, but before he could say anything else Morgana came running up to them.

“Arthur, did I just see you with Mordred? Tell me I didn’t!”

“He says they were just talking,” Leon sighed. “I’ve already told him it’s not a good idea, Morgs.”

“Not a good idea?” Morgana smacked Arthur on the arm.

“Ow!”

“It’s a damn stupid idea!” Morgana exclaimed. “If you go near that little runt again, I’ll have his hide. I’d like to for what he did to you anyway. They’re just playing you because of the competition. What did he do? Tell you how great Cenred is or tell you he loves you and wants you back? Hmm?”

“Neither,” Arthur told her wearily. “I just asked how he’d been and wished him luck for the competition. And he did the same. I got the impression he’s a bit disillusioned with Essetir.”

Morgana gave a low groan of frustration. “He’s just making you think that! Don’t talk to him, Arthur. The photoshoot in a few minutes doesn’t have to involve anything but smiling at the camera. The rest of the time you can just talk to Gwaine and Leon.”

“They’re calling us,” Gwaine put in. “We need to go.”

“Remember what I said,” Morgana warned.

“Yes, okay. But you don’t need to worry. I was only talking to him for a few minutes. I’m fine.” Arthur looked across at Merlin. “Better than fine, really.”

“I hope so.” Morgana turned to go. “Good luck Arthur. Come on Merlin, Gwen and I got a good spot to watch.”

Merlin turned to go, but Arthur called him back.

“Merlin, hold on a moment.”

Curious, Merlin trotted back to Arthur’s side.

“I thought you should have one of these. You know, now you’re a proper surfer.” Arthur held out a leather and cord surfer bracelet not unlike the one that he wore himself. Though while Arthur’s had black and red cord wrap, the one he gave Merlin was black and blue. “I got it for you after I’d finished practice this morning. It’s for luck. Not that you’ll need it. You’re going to be amazing.”

After practice. So he hadn’t been hiding or off with Mordred or anything bad. He’d been looking for a present for Merlin.

Merlin couldn’t stop his face splitting into a huge, delighted grin, more out of relief than anything. “That’s brilliant, Arthur! I love it! Thank you!”

Arthur shook his head, laughing a little at the slightly over the top reaction. “Hold out your hand then. I’ll put it on for you.”

Merlin did as he was bid, still smiling. He knew Morgana was standing behind him watching, but he suspected that given her tirade on Mordred she probably wasn’t going to mind at all if Arthur was showing an interest in someone else.

“Arthur!” Gwaine called. “Hurry up!”

“Thank you,” Merlin told Arthur again. “And good luck! We’ll be cheering you all on.”

“Arthur!”

Arthur waved to Gwaine to show he’d heard. “I have to go. I’m expecting you to lead that cheering, Merlin!”

“I’m on it.”

Merlin watched Arthur jog after Gwaine. Leon and Lance had already gone down to the shoreline where the other competitors were waiting. When Arthur caught up with Gwaine, he turned and jogged backwards for a moment or two, smiling at Merlin. Gwaine looked at Arthur, looked back, and then said something that made Arthur give him a playful shove and chase him to the water’s edge. Merlin watched them, laughing.

“Maybe I don’t need to worry about my little brother after all.”

Merlin had momentarily forgotten that Morgana was there, and her voice startled him.

“Don’t look so guilty,” she continued. “Gwen and Leon both insist that Arthur’s more likely to hurt you than the other way around. Which is good because, judging by the way he looks at you, he’s not going to be doing any heart-breaking any time soon.”

“We’re just…” Merlin began, but she waved his excuse away before he’d even had a chance to form it.

“I can see what you just are. Oh, don’t look like that. I’m not going to bite.”

“Arthur’s been helping me with the surfing, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Morgana linked her arm with his and started to walk him along the beach. “He helps lots of people. It’s Arthur’s way. But he doesn’t look at them as if he’d like to eat them up. Oh look at you blushing! You really are adorable, aren’t you? No wonder my brother’s so taken with you. Well, you can ignore what I said when you first started surfing. I approve, and I expect you to completely erase Mordred from Arthur’s mind. Oh! Perhaps they really were only talking after all! That would be wonderful.”

Yes, Merlin thought. It would.

Watching the elite group, now that he knew quite a lot about surfing, was more interesting than Merlin had expected.

Morgana had found a great vantage point a little way up the beach on some large rocks at the base of the cliffs. It meant that they were slightly raised above most of the other spectators and could see the surfers quite clearly.

The competitors were split by ranking. Lance was among the first to go, and then there was a long wait for Leon’s turn. Lance didn’t do anything spectacular and got what Morgana said was the sort of mark she would expect, considering he was dating the sister of one of the judges.

Leon was good. Even if he hadn’t been a friend, Merlin would have made sure that he cheered hard given that the man’s scary girlfriend was sitting right next to him.

“He’s in the lead,” Merlin enthused.

“As he should be. He’s the highest-ranked surfer so far,” Morgana pointed out. “But that was good. He might hang onto the top spot for a little while.”

In fact, Leon held first place until the surfer who was currently seventh in the league had a particularly good run. A couple of good waves, and Leon was slipping down into second place.

“Damn,” Merlin heard Morgana breathe. “But that’s good enough to take him into tomorrow’s final anyway.”

Merlin didn’t pay a huge amount of attention to the next two surfers to start their heats. Both were good, but he didn’t know them as they were based in South Wales. After them, though, came Mordred. Merlin immediately sat up, alert. This was the man who had managed to capture Arthur’s heart. Despite Morgana’s assurances, Merlin still felt worried by his presence. Absently he twisted the bracelet cords between his fingers, back and forth.

“You’ll break that,” Morgana warned, gently tapping him on the hand to stop him. “Stop worrying. Mordred is yesterday’s news.”

Except he wasn’t. He was out there on the ocean with Arthur. And he was doing really well.

“Mordred previously represented Albion, but moved to Essetir last year,” the commentator was saying. “Since then he’s soared up the rankings…”

“Shit floats,” Morgana hissed angrily. “He probably slept his way up.”

Mordred seemed to just be getting on with the job though. Merlin couldn’t see any signs of him being anything other than a good surfer. Still, the commentary and Mordred’s presence had to be putting Arthur off as he prepared for his own run.

“Currently third in the league and representing Albion, we have Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin saw Arthur raise his hand in acknowledgement. The biggest cheer came from the Albion group. Merlin wondered if Arthur could actually hear them over the noise of the loudspeaker and the waves.

“Arthur’s been surfing since he was a child and won the junior league three years in a row.”

Did he? Merlin didn’t know that. He pictured a little blond boy standing proudly with his surfboard and trophy.

“He’s one of the owners of Albion and helped set the school up a few years back. It’s rapidly turning into one of the most popular in the country. They have two entrants in the newcomers contest later today. Always good to see schools encouraging new talent. And now Pendragon’s lining up for his first run… And there he goes!”

It wasn’t a good run, nor was the next one. There was no doubt that Arthur was being distracted by something.

“That little creep!” Morgana exclaimed. She’d been watching through binoculars, and handed them over to Merlin. “Look behind Arthur, back at the line-up. That’s a dirty trick.”

Merlin looked. Cenred and Mordred were sitting on their boards busy kissing instead of paying any attention to anything else. It had to be distracting for Arthur.

It stopped when Cenred’s name was announced and the older man started his attempt. But by then the damage was done, and Arthur’s score was only slightly higher than Leon’s. He had managed enough to get through to the second day, but that was the best that could be said about it.

Cenred and Gwaine followed, and both were amazing. Merlin could see how they were the top two. Arthur had looked a long way behind, though Merlin knew it had been far below what he was capable of.

“Arthur’s not going to be happy about that,” Morgana sighed. “We’d better find him.”

Arthur, when they found him, was indeed not happy. He had the pouty, sulky look on his face that Merlin had often noticed when they first met. Merlin had seen considerably less of it in recent times, but it was back with a vengeance.

Arthur had changed into shorts and a T-shirt. He was sitting on a low wall at the top of the beach, drinking a bottle of beer and glaring thunderously at anyone who dared come near him. Merlin stopped a few feet away. Morgana didn’t.

“That was awful, Arthur!” she told him.

“Oh spare my feelings why don’t you?” Arthur growled. “Thanks, Morgs. I don’t see you out there competing.”

“Not my thing. I surf for pleasure, nothing more. But you’re better than that. Gwaine and Cenred weren’t on top form. You could have beaten them both.”

That was news to Merlin who thought both Gwaine and Cenred had been amazing. He managed not to put his foot in it by saying so though. “You got through,” he pointed out. “And tomorrow you’ll be better. You can still win.”

Morgana nodded agreement. “Listen to Merlin. And you’ll be annoyed later if I don’t do this.” She took the beer away from him. “You know your own rule.”

Arthur pulled a face. “It’s just one beer. I need it after that.”

“Mmm. No you don’t. I’ll get you some juice. Merlin, talk to him.” She swept off towards the nearest pop-up bar, and Merlin was left with Arthur.

In truth, Merlin didn’t have anything else to say that he thought would cheer Arthur up. It hadn’t been a good heat for Arthur at all. He’d be lucky not to slip down the league table at the end of the weekend. But telling him that wasn’t going to help.

“She’s right,” Merlin attempted, sitting down on the wall beside Arthur. “You’ve been making me suffer salads and things for weeks. I think you should just drink water and eat rice or something. Nothing tasty at all. Payback time!”

Arthur did raise a small smile at that. It confirmed Merlin’s suspicion that the strict healthy eating regime that Arthur swore by was at least partly just to torment Merlin. Arthur did seem to enjoy doing that.

“The worst thing is,” Arthur said suddenly, “It wasn’t them kissing that put me off. I realised when I was talking to him today that the idea of Mordred was so much better than the reality. He’s not that interesting. In fact, he’s quite dull, and I’m not sure what I ever saw in him. No, it was the fact that they thought they could put me off like that. It made me really angry. That’s what messed up my attempts. I wanted to go and punch Cenred, to push him off his board. But that would have been lowering myself to their level. So I went through the motions, but I didn’t have my heart in it.”

“And now you’re furious with yourself?”

“You know me so well.”

“I think so,” Merlin smiled. “And I’m not going to let you mope around. I cheered you on, and in less than an hour you’ve got to return the favour. You’re the one who made me take part in this thing, so you’re going to stop worrying about something you can’t change, and concentrate on supporting me. George is going to be really nervous as well. So, you’re in charge of all the pep talks and cheering. And then afterwards you’re just going to focus on getting ready for tomorrow and making sure you get a good result. Okay?”

“Bossy!”

“I learned from the bossiest prat I know!” Merlin gave him a playful shove, which Arthur returned with enough interest to almost knock Merlin off the wall. Merlin moved to push him a second time, but Arthur grabbed him in a headlock and started giving him a noogie, though not hard enough to hurt.

“Bossy prat, is it?”

“Ow! Get off!”

“Submit!”

“Never!”

“Oh my god,” Morgana groaned, clutching the drinks she’d just returned with. “Boys… Get a room!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on posting this, particularly to my long-suffering artist who has had the patience of a saint. Huge thanks to Katie for another super-fast beta, to the Chatzy crew for all their encouragement and support, and to all the lovely people who put kind comments on chapter one or left kudos. It really is appreciated. I hope you enjoy part 2.

All too soon it was time for Merlin’s competition to start.

Arthur had brightened considerably after Merlin’s pep talk and repaid it with plenty of pep talks of his own. But once Merlin was in his wetsuit and standing with the Albion crowd waiting to be called, he suddenly felt extremely nervous again. He tried to cover it by chatting to his friends, but he had one eye on the ocean all the time.

“You’re one of the last to go,” Arthur warned him. “Don’t let yourself get nervous.”

Too late for that. But Merlin tried not to let it show.

Sefa Harris was Lance’s student and was the third to be called down into the water.

Merlin didn’t really remember her from that first lesson, not that he’d spent much of it with the rest of the class. She’d been a natural, apparently, taken to it right off and needed very little instruction. Sefa had claimed that she’d never surfed before, so she was the natural choice as the entry from Lance’s group.

“Good luck,” Merlin called to her as she picked up her board. She barely acknowledged him, more interested in … actually, Merlin thought, it was the Essetir school that she was more interested in. And specifically in the senior instructor, Valiant. Arthur had pointed him out to Merlin earlier. It was a long time ago, but Merlin was quite certain that it was the same instructor who had been in charge of the surf class he had taken at Essetir. Now Valiant was standing with Cenred and their pupils, watching the Albion group carefully.

“Yes, good luck!” Cenred called mockingly. Several of his cronies laughed. Sefa ducked her head, embarrassed.

“Take no notice,” Merlin heard Lance tell Sefa. “Just do your best. You’re really good. That’s why you were picked.”

He didn’t hear what she said in reply. But he did see her attempt at a competitive surf a little while later. It was a disaster.

It was as if Sefa had forgotten every single thing that Lance had taught her. She fell off her board while paddling out. She tipped over as soon as she tried to stand up. When she finally did manage to get upright, it didn’t last long. Every single time she went for a wave, she simply fell off the board like the worst first-timer. The commentator on the loudspeaker stopped even attempting to find anything good to say.

“Oops! And she’s over again. This is a class in how not to do it, Albion!”

“That’s really off-putting,” Merlin grumbled. “He’d better not do that all through my turn as well.”

Arthur didn’t answer. He was standing with his arms folded across his chest, watching the Essetir group angrily.

“They’re loving this,” Leon commented.

“A bit too much,” Arthur agreed. “And she can’t have suddenly got this bad. She wasn’t even this bad on day one. I’ve seen non-swimmers make a better stab at it. _Nobody_ is this bad. So, she’s either ill, which I doubt, or she’s putting it on.”

“And no prizes for guessing who put her up to it either,” Gwaine muttered, nodding towards Cenred. “Look at that smug git! He won’t be laughing tomorrow when we win, right Arthur?”

“No,” Arthur turned away from Essetir and forced a smile across his features. “They won’t be laughing _today_ when Merlin wins this. He’s better than Sefa anyway, even before she pulled this stunt. We don’t need her.” He slapped Merlin on the back. “You can do this, Merlin. We’re all rooting for you.”

“Depending on you, really after that,” Gwaine added. “Ow,” he yelped when Leon smacked him on the arm to shut him up. “But we are!”

The whole group started giving him all the advice that they could think of. It was a lot of information, and quite confusing. Leon and Gwaine in particular kept arguing on the best tactics. Merlin just tried to concentrate on what Arthur told him and shut out the rest of them.

There was a brief respite from it when the Essetir entry took her turn. The girl was undoubtedly skilful and put in a fine performance. Merlin wished that he hadn’t watched.

“And Sophia Lake from Essetir school is now the one to beat!” the announcer called. As if Merlin hadn’t realised that.

“You can beat her,” Arthur insisted. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure that he believed him, but he was going to try.

And then all too soon the officials were calling for him to go out to the line-up. There was no getting out of it now.

“Just get out there and win this thing!” Arthur urged.

Merlin had little hope that he’d manage to do that, but he was going to try. For Arthur, he’d try as hard as he could. He nodded, waved his wrist with the supposedly lucky bracelet on it at Arthur, picked up his board and headed for the water.

Merlin didn’t think he’d been so nervous on a surfboard since the first evening at Albion. Going out into the sea had been fine, but waiting around for his run was something else.

“Next up, another entrant from Albion school. This is Merlin Emrys, who joined the school just four months ago. He’s been coached by George Smart, who’s taking over the beginners class from Lance Du Lac next season. We’re expecting Merlin to be _magical_ in the water…”

There was a ripple of laughter from the small crowd on the beach, but Merlin tried to ignore it. Evidently, surfers had just the one joke. Although if he wiped out as badly as Sefa had, then they might have a second one, and that would be Albion Surf School. He paddled through the water on his board, trying to concentrate on the waves, waiting for a good one. The contestant ahead of him had already finished, only taking their first few runs before retiring. They’d been quite good, but nothing spectacular. It meant that all the focus was on Merlin, alone out on the waves.

“Merlin’s from Ealdor originally,” the commentator continued. “Surprised he didn’t take up with Essetir when he was younger, but Merlin enjoys reading and has never had much time for surfing. He co-owns The Green Dragon bookstore in Camelot, so do drop in to say hello.”

“Oh please don’t,” Merlin muttered to himself. He couldn’t think of anything worse than standing around making small talk with any surfers outside Albion school. Actually, much as he liked them, once the Albion guys got going on their favourite subject, they could be pretty boring too.

“There’s a great bookshop café in there too, Surf Sup… Surf’s Up… Not sure if that’s a typo on here or not. Anyway, great cakes, apparently. Go there! Right at the top of Seashell Walk.”

The commentator paused, and Merlin knew he was running out of things to say. They probably expected the beginners to go in quickly and didn’t prepare too much banter. But Arthur had told him to pace himself, not to rush, to wait for the right wave. And he had up to ten attempts to make. Merlin had no intention of using that many. He wasn’t a professional. The crowd were going to get bored by his amateur attempts. And his refusal to hurry, but he didn’t care about that.

He could see a wave starting to build and began to paddle over it. Not too big for the first go. Arthur had said it would be better to do something steady and sensible, then build on the score. He hadn’t added ‘Especially after Sefa’s mess’, but Merlin knew that was a factor. He paddled faster, keeping himself slightly ahead of the wave, trying to time it exactly right. Just as it reached him he jumped to his feet, stable on the board in the way he had been taught, and began to ride it in. It wasn’t a particularly strong wave, but it was enough for him to execute a few turns, including a cutback, that he was quite pleased with.

As Merlin picked up his board to head out again, he saw the Albion crowd waving to him, cheering him on. Arthur was standing to one side, arms folded, looking very serious. Arthur nodded encouragingly to Merlin, but Merlin knew he was going to have to do better on his next run. The girl from Essetir had been really good.

“A good steady start there from Emrys,” the announcer called. “Probably enough to put him in the top three or four. Let’s see what else he’s got.”

“No pressure then,” Merlin muttered to himself. He dropped his board into the water and lay down on it, paddling out to the line-up.

His second run wasn’t very good, and although the third and fourth were okay, they were no better than the first. Merlin didn’t even look across at the Albion crew when he wiped out on the fifth, grimly heading back for another go.

The final contestant was out on the ocean with him now. The announcer was concentrating on them instead of Merlin, which made things a little easier. The thought that not all eyes were on him allowed Merlin to relax a little.

He paddled around, trying to make himself calm down after the wipe-out. He was determined not to let the others down, and knew that being stressed wasn’t going to help with that. The Albion group were still there on the beach, watching. He could make out the blond of Arthur’s hair and Leon’s tall form beside him. Arthur was counting on him. He could do this, he _could_.

Merlin waited for the other contestant to take their turn. It went badly. The waves were getting stronger and Merlin saw the bright pink board flip up in the air and over. The surfer had tried to do something clever — and failed. But that didn’t mean that Merlin would.

“Emrys is going for another wave.”

Merlin considered waving sarcastically to the crowd, thought how annoyed Arthur would be if he did, and smiled to himself. He was up on his feet, ahead of the wave. He put in a first turn and realised that the wave was building up considerably. It would possibly be bigger than he’d ever tried. He fought down panic and tried to concentrate on his moves. Degree of difficulty was one of the things Arthur had said the judges looked for. That, and variety of manoeuvres. Being one with your board and all that crap. _You can do this, Merlin._

Okay then…

He turned again, almost lost his balance, but managed to steady himself and complete the turn, still riding in ahead of the wave. Vaguely, he heard his name amongst all the inane chatter from the loudspeaker, but he didn’t let that put him off. Merlin knew it might be his best chance, and he needed to concentrate and get the second turn just right. He sped up, getting ahead of the breaking water, then bent his knees and rotated his shoulders into the turn. It was going to be tight and could all go wrong so easily, but Merlin didn’t let himself think about that. He dropped his weight onto his left foot and guided the board with his right, trying to get the sharpest turn that he could before swapping his weight over to his front foot to create as smooth an arc as possible, pivoting back and forth and somehow, miraculously, not wiping out.

And then he was through it and surfing home. Finally he could see what Arthur meant about the thrill of it when you got it right.

“And that’s a pretty much textbook perfect cutback from Merlin Emrys. Not much wrong with that!” the commentator was saying. “Whoever wins here today, we’ve seen some exciting new talent. Definitely ones to watch.”

Merlin didn’t pay much attention to the rest of what was said. He put in a few more turns, staying safe so that he didn’t wipe out and drop points. He surfed almost all the way to the shore and only hopped off his board in the shallows, unable to stop grinning because he knew that was a very, very good run.

“Merlin!”

Arthur was running down the beach towards him, beaming from ear to ear. Leon, George and the others were hard on his heels. Merlin barely had time to unfasten his leash before Arthur had reached him and pulled him into a huge hug.

“That was brilliant! Brilliant!”

“Well done,” Leon was saying. “If you don’t win after that we’ll be demanding a recount.”

“You did so well!” George exclaimed.

“It was brilliant!” Arthur repeated. He half let go of Merlin but kept one arm around his shoulders. “That has to put you in first place.”

“Shh,” Leon urged. “The scores…”

They all listened intently, then pretty much drowned out the commentator with their loud cheering.

“…And that puts Merlin Emrys in first place.”

“We shouldn’t celebrate too soon,” George warned sensibly. “There’s still one contestant left to finish.”

The final contestant wiped out after a very wobbly fifth attempt. She grabbed her board and waded miserably back to the shoreline.

“Looks finished to me,” Gwaine told George in a low voice. He waited until the contestant had definitely given up, then let out a huge whoop of delight. “Merlin, you’re not buying any drinks tonight!”

“And the winner is Merlin Emrys from Albion Surf School,” the commentator announced. “Ah, Albion are already celebrating that excellent win… Congratulations Mr Emrys, you and Mr Smart come on up here! Good to see that Albion has a great team spirit going on there… Oh my!”

Merlin found himself being lifted up by Arthur and Gwaine. The two men carried him between them on their shoulders, which wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. Still, it did mean that Arthur had a firm grip on Merlin’s thigh and was grinning up at him delightedly. Leon and Lance performed a similar service for George as the winning coach. Merlin and George were carried over to the small podium where the judges were sitting. Merlin felt slightly ridiculous but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it.

Elyan was up on the podium with the other judges and waved cheerfully at Merlin as he approached. Arthur and Gwaine seemed to be set on placing Merlin right on the stage. Merlin was fairly sure he was about to be dropped. But to his relief Elyan hurried forward to help Merlin down from his slightly precarious position and onto the podium. George didn’t need any help because Leon and Lance were sensible enough to lower him down carefully and let him walk up the steps at the side of the podium.

“Great surf, Merlin!” Elyan told him. “I thought you hated surfing and… what was it? Would rather poke yourself in the eye with a sharp stick than go near a surfboard again?”

“Not any more. Your sister forced me to take another lesson and it all went a lot better this time. Albion’s a great club.”

“So I gather from Gwen. Or rather I gather from her that one of the instructors is great. I thought I’d better come home to check him out. It sounds serious.”

“It is,” Merlin confirmed. “Nauseating, even.”

Elyan groaned in mock-misery. “I feared as much. I’ll see for myself soon enough. Now listen, I’m not allowed to join you guys until tomorrow night. If I come along tonight it’s going to look as if I’m favouring Albion. But make sure you praise Albion in your speech.”

“Speech?” Merlin squeaked. “Nobody said anything about that!”

“Just a few words as the winner. See the head judge over there? Killian Garrah? Three times world champion back in the eighties.”

Merlin had heard some of the other surfers talking about him as if he was some kind of legend. “I know.”

“Well he’s got the authority to give out lottery grants for improving training facilities. It’s the best chance our sport’s going to get. Let’s hope it’s a success at the Olympics and becomes a regular thing!”

“Arthur and Gwaine want a chance at representing Britain,” Merlin sighed. “That would be so great.”

“They’ll have to get past me first!” Elyan warned.

“They’re friends!”

Elyan and Merlin both turned to see who had shouted.

It was Cenred. He had approached the stage and was standing right in front of it, pointing at Elyan and Merlin. “They clearly already know each other!” he shouted angrily. “Fix! Sophia should have first place! Disqualify Emrys!”

There were a couple of other people from Essetir School with him, all agreeing and backing him up.

“Cheat!” called Valiant. “He said he’d already had lessons! He’s not a beginner!” Which was a bit of a cheek given who had been responsible for that dreadful lesson all those years ago.

Merlin looked around for help. Gwaine and Arthur were arguing with Cenred. Elyan had gone straight over to the other judges and said something to them then sat back down in his chair. George looked as if he might cry.

“I had one lesson,” Merlin told the Essetir crowd. “It was years ago. I got hit on the head with a surfboard and nearly drowned. I never wanted to surf again.”

“And we put that on the application form,” Leon added. He was looking at the judges when he spoke. “You’ll have a note of it.”

Killian Garrah nodded. “We do indeed. Everything was above board. It was commendable of you to try the sport again, Mr Emrys.”

“He still knows that judge,” Cenred accused.

“This is quite tiresome,” Garrah sighed. “Elyan declared an interest at the start. We agreed that under those circumstances his score for Mr Emrys would be whatever the average was of the other judges.”

“That’s very fair,” George agreed. “Wouldn’t you say that was fair, Merlin?”

Merlin really just wanted to be off that podium. “Yes.”

Garrah gestured for them both to come closer. He stood up, holding a couple of small trophies shaped like surfboards.

“Congratulations to Albion School for winning the newcomer’s contest. Very impressive, Mr Emrys. I wish we had a bad loser contest as well,” he added quietly to Merlin as he handed over the trophy. “Essetir would win it without any trouble.”

Cenred stood in front of the stage. Merlin could tell from the furious expression on his face that he was barely containing his anger. It wouldn’t have helped that Gwaine had taken first place in the earlier heats either.

George accepted his coaching trophy happily, then looked at Merlin expectantly. Ah yes, the speech…

“Um…” Merlin began eloquently. There were things he hated more than public speaking, but offhand he couldn’t remember what they were. Being boiled alive, possibly. He looked down at the Albion crowd. Leon, Gwaine, Lance and Elena were all smiling up at him expectantly. And beside them was Arthur, still beaming with pride. The sight calmed Merlin a little and helped him focus.

“I’m really pleased to win this because Albion’s a fantastic school and should be recognised as such.”

That brought an encouraging cheer from his friends, so he continued.

“George has been an amazingly patient teacher. I’m lucky enough to be his first pupil. Next season he’s going to be taking over the novice class. There are limited spaces so people should sign up early!”

Merlin was going to finish there, but he saw Cenred scowling up at him. Standing right next to him was Mordred. And on his other side was Valiant. Revenge was petty, but sometimes it was impossible to resist. Even public speaking could have some advantages…

“Um… As you might have heard, many years ago I did have a brief attempt at surfing. I… erm… was very young and the one lesson that I took – not at Albion, of course – wasn’t at all well-supervised. I was given a fibreglass board without a leash and left to get on with it. Of course, I fell off. The board hit me on the head and I nearly drowned.”

“It’s not the bloody Oscars!” Cenred snapped. “Wrap it up!”

Mordred, Merlin noticed, was looking at Cenred with annoyance. It looked as if he wasn’t impressed with the man’s rudeness. Merlin could sympathise with that. Still, anyone who passed up the opportunity to spend their life with Arthur probably deserved all they got. Stuck with Cenred and Valiant though… no, that didn’t seem like the most fun place to be.

Valiant was frowning at Merlin. Merlin wondered if he remembered. There had been trouble at the time for Essetir. Merlin’s mother had threatened to sue. It was before Cenred took over. Actually, Merlin was sure that Cenred’s father had sacked Valiant for it. Cenred must have reinstated him.

“I was very young, and it was a terrifying experience. Obviously it put me off the sport, and I never tried again until now. But George and Arthur and all the rest of the crowd at Albion have been so encouraging and friendly and they’ve turned it into a hobby that I really enjoy. So, thanks all of you. You’ve been great.”

There was enthusiastic applause and cheering, most of it from the Albion group.

“You’ve been great too!” Gwaine yelled.

George stepped forward to speak. “This has been an amazing way to begin as a trainer. Merlin’s been an excellent student, and the…”

“I remember you!” Valiant snarled suddenly, interrupting George. “You’re that little shit who got me fired!”

Cenred gaped at him in horror for a moment before smacking him hard on the arm. “Shut up!” Merlin heard Cenred hiss.

But Valiant wasn’t listening. “Two years I was on the dole because of you!” He took a threatening step towards the stage, and for a moment Merlin thought he was going to force his way up there and take revenge.

But Arthur, Leon, Lance and Gwaine all moved to block Valiant’s path. It was a bit like having his own private security force. Valiant still looked very angry. Merlin wished that they hadn’t mentioned the bookstore earlier. He would have to warn Freya to be extra vigilant, just in case. Still, Gaius and Geoffrey had taken some sort of self-defence course for seniors the previous year. They were always going on about it and would probably relish the chance to sit up all night and keep watch. Plus that would mean they would be asleep all day and wouldn’t hurt the till. And they probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually tackle Valiant. Probably…

“Interesting,” Garrah was saying. “Am I to take it that Essetir was the school responsible for your first attempt then, Mr Emrys?”

“No!” Cenred yelled before Merlin could answer. “Shut up, Val!”

Valiant glared at Cenred, then fixed Merlin with a furious look. He did, however, have the sense to shut up.

“He’s only been working for me for a few years,” Cenred explained. “He was a lifeguard before that. Didn’t he” — he pointed at Merlin — “say it was years and years ago? Not my school.”

“Easy enough to find where it was,” Elyan put in helpfully. “None of us would want the funding going anywhere that allowed that sort of thing, right Kill? And I hate the idea of any school being blamed for something it didn’t do.”

Merlin managed not to smile. Elyan looked completely innocent, but he knew full well exactly which school it had been. Elyan had still been a junior surfer back then. He’d tried to persuade his little sister’s best friend that surfing was a wonderful sport to take up. What had happened horrified Elyan. Merlin had no doubt that he’d be making sure Garrah knew as well. And even if he didn’t, the older surfer was obviously nobody’s fool and had doubtless realised already.

“I believe Mr Smart was speaking before he was so rudely interrupted,” Garrah put in. “Please, Mr Smart, do resume. And congratulations to you once again. I’m most impressed with Albion.” He fixed Cenred with a steely glare. “Most impressed…”

Merlin grinned at Arthur triumphantly. Arthur, to his credit, was managing not to look delighted by the turn of events, though Merlin could see that he was trying very hard not to smile.

“Thank you!” Arthur mouthed at Merlin.

It would have been perfect, except Merlin happened to notice Mordred at just that moment.

Mordred was looking at Arthur thoughtfully. Merlin prayed Mordred hadn’t finally realised what a mistake he’d made. That would not be good. Not at all.

Gwaine was true to his word regarding the drinks. Merlin didn’t pay for a single one. Neither, for that matter, did George. However, as George was driving home later, he was sticking to the fruit juice. Merlin definitely wasn’t. Neither was Gwaine.

“You’re competing tomorrow,” Arthur warned Gwaine more than once. Gwaine just shrugged and picked up the latest pitcher of beer that they’d ordered.

“I surf better hungover,” he claimed. “You should try it. Gives you an edge.”

Arthur looked down miserably at his watermelon and strawberry cooler. The first one had looked delicious. Merlin had even had one himself and it had been gloriously refreshing in the late afternoon sunshine. But by 9pm the sunlight was starting to fade along with any enthusiasm for fruity drinks. It was way past beer o’clock.

“I could do with an edge after today,” Arthur admitted. “I’m lucky that I’m still in the competition.”

Gwaine topped up Merlin’s glass and refilled his own, then offered the pitcher to Arthur. “Go for it!”

Arthur covered the top of his glass with his hand. “Rules, Gwaine.”

“Are made to be broken! Come on, one isn’t going to hurt. You need to wind down. It’ll help.”

Arthur didn’t remove his hand. Merlin didn’t really blame him. Alcohol and water sports didn’t mix, even if the latter wouldn’t be until the next day.

“Leave him alone,” Merlin advised. “Arthur knows what he’s doing.”

That earned Merlin a pleased and surprised smile from Arthur. Beside him, Merlin heard Gwaine give a little snort of amusement but for once that was all the comment Gwaine made.

“Thanks, Merlin. I’m glad someone’s on my side,” Arthur told him.

“I just don’t want to share my beer,” Merlin replied, taking the pitcher from Gwaine and moving it away from Arthur. “That’s all.”

“Hah! We’ll see about that!” Arthur immediately grabbed Merlin’s glass instead, and took a long swig. “Mmm… Here…” he pushed the fruity cooler towards Merlin. “You can have that. Fair exchange.”

“So much for your rules,” Lance pointed out. “And Gwaine’s right, one isn’t going to hurt.”

“Not when you’re going to lose tomorrow anyway, Pendragon!”

Merlin looked around to see who had spoken. Behind them, sneering unpleasantly at Arthur, was Cenred. The man-bun had gone, replaced by long, straggly black hair. It didn’t look much better. Beside him was Mordred, who wasn’t looking particularly comfortable. Cenred had a possessive arm around him.

“Go and crawl back under your rock,” Morgana advised. “And take that little worm with you.” She pointed a perfectly-manicured nail at Mordred, who actually cringed slightly. Merlin could sympathise, being faintly scared of Morgana himself. “This is the winning table.”

“Today, perhaps,” Cenred sniffed. “Tomorrow it’ll be the losing one. ‘Specially if Pendragon is as crap as he was today. I thought I was watching the amateurs starting off early.”

Gwaine twisted round in his seat and saluted Cenred with his beer. “Think you’ll find I beat you today, Cedric.”

“Cenred.”

“Whatever. I won. Like Morgs said, this is the winning table. So sod off, Cedric, and take creepy boy with you.”

“Gwaine…” Arthur warned quietly. “Don’t.”

“No, don’t, Wayne,” Cenred retorted. “You might regret it.” He pulled Mordred closer, though the younger man didn’t seem particularly interested in cuddling up to him. “We’re going back to our hotel room to work up a sweat. Helps with the fitness, you know? Remember that, Pendragon? He’s pretty lively, isn’t he?”

“Oh shut up, C!” Mordred snapped, pulling away from Cenred. He nodded to the Albion crowd. “Congratulations today, and good luck tomorrow.”

Arthur regarded Mordred for a moment, then nodded. “You too, Mordred. And you’re welcome to join us for a drink if you don’t want to go back with Cenred.”

Merlin heard Morgana give a sharp intake of breath at that. It reflected the thrill of horror that Merlin himself felt on hearing it. But Cenred was already putting his arm around Mordred again and trying to steer him away.

“I don’t think so, Pendragon. That’s one you’ve definitely lost. See you tomorrow. I’ll be the one holding the trophy.”

“Cocky git!” Gwaine shouted after him.

Arthur watched them go. He had a pensive look on his face and seemed troubled when he turned back to face the others.

“Don’t let him put you off,” Morgana urged. “That’s what he’s after. You and Gwaine can both beat those two. Albion one and two, that’s what we’re after. And Leon” — she must have suddenly remembered that perhaps girlfriends were supposed to be supportive — “you did really well today. Albion one, two, three would be perfect!”

Leon just smiled, obviously not fooled by the attempted save, and helped himself to more of the beer.

“Mordred didn’t seem to be very happy though, did he?” Arthur asked. “Did he look happy to any of you?”

“Not our problem,” Gwaine told him, reaching over to get the pitcher from Leon. “He’s made his bed…”

Arthur still looked concerned, but didn’t say anything else about Mordred. Merlin could tell that he was still thinking about it though. Arthur was a lot quieter after that, and twice Merlin had to nudge him because someone had asked a question and Arthur had been lost in his own thoughts.

“Sorry,” Arthur sighed when it happened a second time. “I think I’m just tired. I might go back to the campsite soon. We shouldn’t stay out too late tonight.”

Merlin almost pointed out that he could stay out as late as he liked because he wasn’t competing in the morning. But he was hoping to spend another night snuggled up with Arthur and the sooner they got back to the campsite the better, as far as Merlin was concerned. Particularly if the others wanted to stay out a bit longer, so that there would only be himself and Arthur in the tent. A little warning voice was telling him that Arthur was clearly still in love with Mordred and that Merlin was heading for pain and heartache if he pursued Arthur. But Merlin wasn’t much good at listening to little voices. He drained his glass and stood up.

“I’m worn out. I’m ready to go back.”

“I’m ready for bed,” Lance agreed. To Merlin’s disappointment both Lance and Gwen got up to leave, as did Elena. There would be no time alone with Arthur after all.

Gwaine gazed up at them all mournfully, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. “It’s only 10:30,” he complained. “It’s the middle of the afternoon!”

“Rest tonight, party tomorrow,” Lance advised. “Come on, Gwaine, you’re going into the final in the lead. Win tomorrow, then we’ll all be buying you drinks tomorrow night.”

Gwaine pulled a face at him but got up anyway. Merlin didn’t miss the sly glance that he gave Elena. Doubtless they thought they were being very sneaky and clever. Merlin was quite sure that if Gwen and Lance hadn’t been around, then he and Arthur would have had the tent to themselves.

Still, there was no guarantee that anything would happen.

The walk back from the campsite facilities was longer than Merlin would have liked. He was used to the comforts of his cozy little bookshop flat, where everything was close by. Pokey, Gwaine had called it when he’d stopped by. Merlin wondered what Arthur would think of it if he ever saw it. Probably the same as Gwaine. Arthur came from money and would never live somewhere like that. Actually, they were doomed. Merlin didn’t think he could ever bear to leave his beloved flat, and he was certain that Arthur would never want to live there. But that was just fantasy anyway. Merlin wasn’t in a relationship with Arthur no matter how much he wanted to be.

Everyone had gone to bed when Merlin got back. Gwaine was making a big thing of settling down in the living area on sleep mats. He had more beer and was lying there using a camping lantern to read a surfing magazine.

“Night, Merlin!” he called as Merlin passed him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “That leaves me with a world of opportunities,” he retorted. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do, Gwaine?”

Gwaine just laughed. He didn’t actually reply, which was an answer in itself. Merlin pulled back the fabric ‘door’ to his pod.

The partition between their sleep pods had been zipped back into place. But that didn’t matter because Arthur was already lying in bed on Merlin’s side of the pods and was waiting for him.

“It’s bad luck to change the sleeping arrangements in the middle of a competition,” Arthur offered as possibly one of the lamest excuses Merlin had ever heard. “So you’re stuck with me again.”

“I wouldn’t want to tempt fate,” Merlin agreed, sealing up the door and then scrambling in beside him quickly in case Arthur changed his mind.

“Mmm,” Arthur shuffled over to give Merlin a little more room. “Superstition’s very important. That lucky bracelet worked for you today.”

“Yeah.” Merlin was still wearing it. He’d been fingering it absently quite often. As a gift from Arthur it was precious. “That’s what clinched it. Not my amazing surfing skills or George’s fantastic training. It was the bracelet.”

“Yes. It’s magic. Just right for _Merlin_.”

“At least not like it’s _wizard_ or something.”

“Oh you’re never going to stop going on about that, are you?”

“No. Or I will when you stop going on about the magic thing.”

“Never going to happen,” Arthur assured him. “Besides, we’re Arthur and Merlin. You know what that means?”

“It means our parents had crap taste in names.”

“True,” Arthur allowed. He had shifted up close to Merlin. If Merlin didn’t know better he would swear they were snuggling. “It also means we’re supposed to be together.”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. Surely Arthur couldn’t mean what that sounded as if he meant?

“Wh…what?”

“Meant to be together,” Arthur repeated patiently. He reached down and took Merlin’s hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the back. “What do you say?”

“To…um…?” Merlin managed eloquently. Arthur sighed, and tried again.

“When this is over,” Arthur said hesitantly, “maybe we could go for dinner one night or something?”

That really sounded good. But Merlin still had to be sure he wasn’t misunderstanding.

“What, us or the whole group?”

“Are you being this awkward on purpose, Merlin? I’m asking you out.”

“I just… so it’s a date, right?” Merlin couldn’t help how widely he was smiling. And that seemed to please Arthur, who grinned delightedly back at him.

“Of _course_ it’s a date.” Arthur pulled him a little closer. “A long overdue date. And I don’t take that lot along when I’m planning a romantic night, Merlin. They ruin the mood. So, what do you say?”

Merlin was tempted to suggest skipping dinner and going straight to dessert, but he supposed as everything was going so incredibly well he would be better off not being _too_ easy…

“I say I like Italian,” he announced. “And also Thai. I’m quite partial to Indian. And there’s that great fish and chip restaurant at the end of the high street.”

“Italian it is,” Arthur decided. “I know a really good little bistro. Their tiramisu is to die for.”

Merlin loved tiramisu. But that did raise a good question. “How do you know? I thought you were into all that healthy eating?”

“Off-season,” Arthur said quickly. “So, we’re here for the weekend. What about Monday night?”

“Mmm… we could celebrate your win,” Merlin agreed. Arthur was still holding his hand. It was endearing and frustrating at the same time. But just as Merlin was considering to just go for it and kiss Arthur, there was a low moan of pleasure from the other side of the tent.

“Oh god, they’re at it again,” Arthur groaned. “Why can’t I be deaf?”

Merlin rolled onto his side so that he was facing Arthur, then reached out and covered Arthur’s ears with his hands. “Better?”

“I can’t hear you,” Arthur told him. “Closer.”

Merlin was happy to do that. He moved very close, then lifted his hand and cupped it around the shell of Arthur’s ear. “Better?”

“A little.” Arthur slipped an arm around Merlin, pulling him right up against Arthur’s body. “ _This_ is even better. And this…” Arthur slid his arm up to gently guide Merlin’s head forward, capturing him in a kiss that started off uncertain but quickly deepened.

“That’s _much_ better,” Arthur sighed. “Almost perfect.”

“Only almost?” Merlin whispered. It felt pretty perfect to him.

“Mmm…” Arthur kissed him again. “Perfection will be when you go on that date with me. Ah, no… actually, it’ll probably be on the third or fourth date. Hopefully.”

“Why? What’s going to happen then?” Merlin teased gently, smiling against Arthur’s mouth.

“Perfection, Merlin,” Arthur breathed.

“Bit presumptive.”

Arthur just hummed happily and snuggled up against him. It felt very right, as if that was Arthur’s place and he should always be there next to Merlin.

Merlin wasn’t sure that he could hold out until date three.

Merlin awoke to the sound of people yelling.

It was Elena screaming for help outside, accompanied by the sound of things falling over. Merlin heard Gwaine calling from out there as well, his voice almost as panicked as hers. Scrambling out of bed, Merlin hurried to see what was going on, almost crashing into Arthur in the process.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur called as he clambered through the entrance to their sleeping pod. Gwen and Lance were emerging from theirs as well, both looking half-asleep and very dishevelled.

“Careful where you step!” Gwaine yelled back. “Take a torch, there’s broken glass!”

“Gwaine’s cut his feet on it!” Elena called. “Bring the first aid kit! And put shoes on!”

Arthur grabbed the green first aid box, while Lance turned on a couple of the camping lanterns that they’d brought along.

Outside the entrance to Elena’s tent there were several jagged pieces of broken glass. There was absolutely no way from their position that Elena could have missed them when going into the tent. There was no other glass anywhere else. Gwaine was sitting on the ground with Elena huddled next to him. Lance knelt down beside her, took the first aid box from Arthur, and began carefully removing the small shards from Gwaine’s bleeding feet. Gwaine sucked in his breath as the first piece came out.

“Sorry,” Lance sighed. “No other way, mate. Where did the glass come from?”

“Don’t know,” Gwaine shrugged. “Someone must have put it there.”

“Why would someone put broken glass right outside Elena’s tent?” Merlin wondered out loud. Elena could be dizzy but she was really nice. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.

“Yes…Wait a minute. What were you doing out here, Gwaine?” Arthur asked.

Gwaine looked a little bit sheepish, glanced at Elena who was blushing deeply, then shrugged. “I was taking a leak?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Right outside Elena’s tent? Ever the gentleman, Gwaine.”

“I was checking that Ellie was okay.”

“And was she?”

Gwaine just smirked, despite the mess he was in. “Of course!”

“So, you went to… check on Elena… or whatever you’re calling it, and stepped on the glass?”

“No. It wasn’t there when I came over. Some bugger put it there for me to tread on when I came out.”

“And it doesn’t take a genius to guess who. They must’ve been watching and waiting for an opportunity,” Arthur surmised. “Dammit Gwaine! Why couldn’t you keep it in your pants just for one night?”

“Oh you can talk. I heard you and Merlin unzipping the partition between your pods last night and getting all cozy in there tonight! I wasn’t going to lie there having to listen to all four of you having a good time while I’m home alone!”

“Never mind that,” Lance snapped. “I’m taking Gwaine to A and E. Some of those cuts are pretty deep and probably need stitches. And for all we know the glass might have been contaminated or something. Elena, you sit with him, I’ll drive.”

“We’ll all go,” Arthur decided, and Merlin nodded agreement.

“No. You two stay here,” Gwaine insisted. “This was sabotage. I can’t even stand, let alone surf tomorrow. So you’re our only hope, Arthur. You’ve got to get some sleep and get revenge for this in the morning. Okay?”

“I can’t beat Cenred. He’s too good.”

“He’s a shit! And you can. Do it for Albion, Arthur.”

“Go and get some rest, Arthur. Gwaine’s right that you’re our only chance to win this. I’ll call if there are any complications,” Lance promised. “Merlin, can you help me get him in the minibus?”

Merlin moved to help Lance, aware that Arthur was still just standing there.

“Go, Arthur,” Lance ordered. “The best thing you can do for Gwaine right now is win that thing tomorrow. Go!”

With a concerned look over at Gwaine, Arthur reluctantly headed back into the tent.

Merlin and Lance carried Gwaine between them to the minibus. Elena hovered worriedly beside them.

“How could they do this?” Elena fretted. “What if Gwaine is permanently injured?”

“I don’t think he is,” Lance assured her. He looked worried though.

“We should go to the police,” Merlin advised.

“We will, but I can’t see them rushing to deal with this one. They’ll probably think we smashed the bottle ourselves and were careless with the shards. Can you cover it over until morning, Merlin? I doubt Cenred’s lot were stupid enough to leave fingerprints but you never know. And contact the site owner in case they actually have their CCTV cameras working.”

“I’m going to bloody kill him when I can walk again,” Gwaine warned. “I’ll lose top ranking for this.”

“Just be thankful it probably didn’t go deep enough to cause permanent damage,” Lance told him. “Don’t worry about your ranking right now.”

“I worked bloody hard for that top spot!”

“I know.” Lance stepped awkwardly back into the minibus, almost banging his head on the roof. “And you’ll get it back. Merlin, I’m setting him down. Keep his legs off the ground.”

Merlin did as he was bid while Lance rearranged things in the bus to make a vaguely comfortable spot for Gwaine on the floor.

“Okay, I’m going to lift you again, Gwaine,” Lance warned. “Bit of an awkward angle though. Elena, could you hold his feet up for a bit. Merlin, get round here and help me.”

Merlin moved to Lance’s side. He saw the way Gwaine’s expression softened when Elena took over. Though it was only for a moment because, being Elena, she immediately almost dropped him.

“Whoops!”

Gwen very swiftly and very tactfully stepped in to help.

Eventually, they got Gwaine into a fairly secure position. Lance left Elena and Gwen in the back with Gwaine and headed off to the nearest A&E. Usually, Lance was fairly easy-going. Not that night.

Left behind at the campsite Merlin would have quite liked to go back to bed. Instead he found himself with a list of things to do. And top of that list was to make sure Arthur got as good a night’s sleep as possible.

That wasn’t very likely to happen.

Arthur, of course, had not gone back to bed like Lance had told him. Instead he must have waited until Lance couldn’t see him and then got busy. He had already covered up the glass by the time Merlin got back. He’d also contacted the site owner, who apparently hadn’t been too pleased at being woken up in the middle of the night or at having broken glass around his campsite. It reduced Merlin’s list considerably but also meant that they were failing on the most important item.

“You need to go back to bed,” Merlin insisted. “Lance put me in charge of sorting everything out. Especially you.” He gently guided Arthur back towards the tent.

“You’re going to sort me out?” Arthur queried, giving Merlin a far, far too innocent look. “Is that a promise?”

“It’s a threat. Bed. Now. I have to take the lantern and do a check in case there’s anything else left for us to trip over. They’ll want to take you out of the contest too if they can.”

Arthur gave a little laugh at that. “No, Merlin. They’ll want to defeat me. I’m quite safe. I’m beatable, in their eyes. Gwaine isn’t. He just goes for it, and that’s how he gets such good marks. They couldn’t risk leaving him in the competition. We’re lucky they didn’t do something worse. At least he’ll recover from this. Hopefully,” he added as an afterthought.

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that. “You’ll win tomorrow,” was all he could offer.

Arthur gave a small, disparaging snort of bitter laughter. “I doubt it. Cenred’s a very good surfer, and he doesn’t play fair. At least this time it looks as if the judges won’t be taking bribes. He’s done that before.”

Merlin shook his head. “Elyan’s one of the fairest people I know. And he’s Gwen’s brother. If he was biased in any way, it wouldn’t be towards Essetir.”

“Yeah. Well that’s something,” Arthur sighed. He didn’t move, just looked around sadly at their deserted pitch.

Merlin picked up one of the camping lanterns and handed it to him. “Come on then. Two pairs of eyes are better than one. We’ll check the area, then bed, yeah?”

“Together?”

Merlin couldn’t help the way his expression softened at the hopeful tone in Arthur’s voice. He knew he probably looked as besotted as Gwaine had done gazing at his Ellie. Well, Merlin _was_ besotted, and he knew it.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Together.” And Arthur could make of that what he would.

They walked around the pitch carefully, wary of any further traps despite Arthur’s assurance that Cenred would want him to compete in the morning. Arthur had gone quite quiet, only speaking to point out a few spots where he wanted Merlin to shine the lantern in order to take a closer look.

“I think it’s all okay,” Merlin said, finally, as they stood outside their tent.

“Yes, crippling Gwaine was enough for them,” Arthur agreed bitterly.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Merlin told him, hoping that he sounded reassuring. “Lance didn’t think that it would take too long to heal up. Gwaine’s probably going to hold court at The Wipeout for the next few weeks, getting everyone to wait on him hand and foot. Um…” he paused, realising what he’d said. “That wasn’t… er… supposed to be funny or anything…”

Arthur stared at him for a moment in horror. Merlin thought he’d really blown it. Gwaine was one of Arthur’s best friends, after all. And then, abruptly, Arthur laughed and put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, guiding him back to the tent.

“Your face! You’re so easy to wind up!”

“Prat!”

“Ah,” Arthur sighed, stopping just outside the sleeping pod and drawing Merlin into his arms. “Now there’s the Merlin I know and love. Eloquent and original. Never a new insult when the same old one will do!”

Merlin glowered at him, despite how very pleasant it was to be held by Arthur. He was about to retort in kind, then realised what Arthur had just said.

“Love?”

Arthur leaned in to kiss him. “Maybe. If I said ‘know and like a lot’, I’d sound so ineloquent that I could be Merlin!”

“Hah hah. Insults!” Merlin didn’t pull away. He could feel Arthur close against him, warm and vital. And he could also feel exactly how much Arthur liked him right now. “Is this your warped idea of seduction?”

Arthur smiled against Merlin’s mouth, then kissed him again. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Mmm… are you going to make out this is date three then?”

Arthur just laughed at that. He turned to lift up the flap covering the sleep pod entrance and held it open for Merlin before following him in.

After Arthur zipped the pod closed behind them and they settled into their bed, the area suddenly seemed much smaller than it had earlier. Arthur felt so much nearer. It was almost overpowering.

“Nice of them to leave us the place to ourselves,” Merlin commented as Arthur drew the bedding over them and pulled him close.

There must have been something in Merlin’s tone that reflected how nervous he felt, because his words made Arthur freeze. Arthur’s hand, which had strayed up the back of Merlin’s t-shirt and started exploring, stilled.

“We don’t have to… not if you’re not ready,” Merlin added quickly. “I really like all the kissing and cuddling but I don’t want to spoil things. I really want to make this work, Arthur.”

“Oh, I want to,” Arthur assured him. His hand started to gently stroke Merlin’s back again, sweetly caressing the skin. It was beyond frustrating. “God, I haven’t wanted to this much with anyone since… well, anyone really.”

Mordred. That was what Arthur had been going to say, Merlin knew.

“But I don’t want you to feel pressured. You’ve been so great with everything, and you’ve pretty much single-handedly won us that Olympics grant. And I like you. I _really_ like you, Merlin. I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got. Because we’ve got something, haven’t we?”

Arthur’s face, with the contours emphasised by the shadows from the last remaining lantern, looked so vulnerable and hopeful as he gazed at Merlin. It was such a far cry from the way he had appeared when they first met. Merlin couldn’t imagine his life without Arthur any more. He didn’t want to.

“Oh yes,” Merlin whispered, leaning in so that his body was almost flush against Arthur’s. They were on the same page, there was no doubt about that. Merlin could feel Arthur hard against him. “We’ve got something. And we are definitely not going to ruin it if we have sex. Though if we discuss it much longer, that lot’ll come back and they _will_ ruin things. Now stop worrying and kiss me already!”

Arthur smiled bright enough to light up a room and then kissed him.

Merlin was right. Sex didn’t ruin anything.

Merlin woke the next morning from what felt like a very long and restful sleep. Arthur was still asleep, naked and spooned up against Merlin. One arm was draped over Merlin’s hip. It felt good, right. The soft even breaths that Arthur made in Merlin’s ear were more relaxing than anything. Merlin thought that he could happily drift back off to sleep again.

There was an annoying noise from somewhere though. A persistent, irritating beeping. It was probably what had woken him up. Beside him Arthur sighed, and snuggled closer, giving Merlin all sorts of interesting ideas as to how they could spend the morning.

The beeping stopped. Then there was another sound, that of the Harry Potter theme tune. Loud and very annoying. Merlin’s phone.

Arthur grunted and pressed his face into Merlin’s neck. “Make it stop…”

Reluctantly, Merlin reached with one arm and scrabbled around in his bags. He finally pulled out his own phone and checked caller ID.

“It’s Leon… Oh shit! It’s 11.30, Arthur! We should be at the beach already!”

As Merlin answered the phone, he heard a lot of swearing and cursing behind him. He didn’t know his posh boyfriend knew terms like that. But then Arthur was friends with Gwaine, so perhaps it wasn’t that surprising.

Merlin sat up in bed and reluctantly put the phone to his ear. “Um… hi Leon.”

“Merlin! Where are you? Do you know what time it is? Arthur should be here. He’ll miss the start!”

“Um…” Merlin looked over at Arthur who was fighting to get into a t-shirt that was inside-out. Regretfully his perfect arse had already vanished beneath a far too baggy pair of shorts. “We’re on our way. Might need a lift though. Lance took the minibus.”

“Ask how Gwaine’s doing,” Arthur urged, taking the t-shirt off and turning it the right way round. “And get dressed! Here, give me that.” He grabbed the phone from Merlin before Merlin could ask Lance anything about Gwaine.

“Hi! It’s me… yes, never you mind about that. How’s Gwaine...? Oh, good… that’s good… yes… Okay, can you get that harpy of a sister of mine to come and pick us up? What? Again? Just how many fashion boutiques _are_ there in Gawant?”

Merlin began to pull his clothes on. Somehow Arthur still managed to look good, but Merlin’s clothes were crumpled and he had what looked like a large coffee stain on one leg of his shorts. He hoped it was only coffee, anyway.

“Well can Lance get us? Or can you just send us a taxi? Yes, we’re still at the campsite. We… er… overslept. Oh, you’re funny. Yes… yes… None of your business… No… Just tell her to get down here. Thank you! See you later.”

Arthur handed the phone back to Merlin with a sigh.

“Gwaine’s fine. He won’t be walking for a few days so that he has a good chance to heal, but it’s not serious. Morgana’s coming to pick us up. She’d gone shopping with Gwen. Typical. Leon’s going to call her. Lance is still at the hospital with Gwaine, and Leon’s still in the contest. So we’re stuck. She’ll probably interrogate you.” Arthur started to rummage through his belongings, looking for something. “Oh, and have you ever been in a car with Morgs driving?”

“No,” Merlin replied warily. “Why?”

“Well, if you ever thought that surfing was scary, be prepared for the white-knuckle ride of your life! Honestly, I’ve been on less scary rollercoasters. For god’s sake, don’t sit in the front! She gets really narky if you slam on invisible brakes… Ah, there’s my phone… Seven messages and two missed calls. I won’t bother looking at any of that. I can guess what it was about.”

Arthur pocketed his phone and then set about picking up the contents of his wallet from where it was scattered about on the ground sheet. Merlin couldn’t help smiling to himself as he recalled their frantic search for condoms the previous night. Arthur had eventually raided Lance’s backpack. Merlin supposed they had better tidy that up too…

At that point his stomach grumbled, loudly.

“No chance of breakfast, I suppose?” Merlin enquired hopefully. “I’m starving.”

“No time,” Arthur told him. “We’ll grab something when we get there. I’ve probably got an hour or so before I have to actually get in the water. We’re not really late. The first part is mostly standing around waiting anyway.”

Arthur had unzipped the sleep pod entrance during his search for the phone. He went out and opened up the chiller, retrieving a couple of bottles of water.

“Catch!”

Merlin struggled to reach the bottle that Arthur threw in his direction. He half-caught it, but it was too slick from the cooler and slipped from his fingers onto the ground.

“Not any less clumsy today I see,” Arthur smirked as Merlin bent to pick it up.

“Should I be?”

“Well…”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Oh tell me you didn’t think that your magical dick of sex was going to give me the power of prophecy and that I’d know when some prat is going to throw random bottles of water at me!”

“Magic, eh,” Arthur’s smile was getting broader by the moment. “To you, everything’s like that. It’s all…”

“Don’t say wizard!” Merlin interrupted quickly. “Just don’t! I can’t be seeing someone who uses words like that!”

“I was going to say magical, with you being Merlin and a complete Harry Potter fanboy as well, but wizard works too. Don’t knock it. And… we’re seeing each other then?”

“We’ve already seen quite a lot of each other. So yes. I’m not a cheap one-night-stand, Arthur Pendragon. I expect to be wined and dined as promised.” Merlin took a long swig from the water bottle, then waved it at Arthur. “This doesn’t cut it, by the way.”

“I’ll buy you a bacon roll when we get there. Or give you the money for it anyway because I’m going to have to get ready,” Arthur glanced at his watch. “Hope she’s not going to be too long.”

It was only a ten minute drive to the beach if traffic was good, and if they’d got up earlier they could have walked it easily.

“Sorry, I should have set an alarm. Lance is going to kill me. I was in charge of looking after you.”

“And a very good job you did of it,” Arthur assured him, coming over to kiss him. “Mmm… My… what was it? …magical dick of sex and I are most appreciative! Where did you come up with that, _Mer_ lin? Was it in that purple shady porn book I caught you reading that time? Along with the mighty sword of manmeat?”

“You read that, not me,” Merlin quite correctly pointed out. “I was just packing the things up to sell.”

“You were looking at them.”

“In horror.”

“Mmm…” Arthur kissed him again, slipping his arms around Merlin and pulling him close. “I really wish I didn’t have that competition. I could stay here with you quite happily.”

“Well you’d better not after I’ve sped all the way over here to pick you up!”

There was a loud, very pointed cough from behind them. Morgana was standing at the entrance to the tent, watching them. “Ugh!” she continued as Arthur moved in for one last kiss. “Put him down. I don’t want to watch my little brother making out!

“Hi, harpy,” Arthur sighed.

Merlin wriggled free of Arthur. “Thanks for coming to get us,” he said, picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’re ready, aren’t we Arthur?”

Arthur muttered something incomprehensible, although Merlin was sure he made out ‘we’re going to die’ in the midst of it.

“We’ve got forty minutes to get you there, get you changed and ready. And then”— she fixed Merlin with a stern look that would have given his uncle Gaius a run for his money — “you’re going to sit with me and catch me up on all the gossip.”

That would be fun, Merlin thought. With a growing sense of foreboding, he followed Morgana to her car.

Arthur had not been kidding about Morgana’s driving.

Merlin was certain that he’d lost at least a year of his life in those seven terror-filled minutes between the campsite and Gawant beach. Twice she took a bend so fast that half the car lifted off the road. Every give way sign was ignored, and apparently indicators and waiting at roundabouts were for losers.

At least he’d been in the back seat. Arthur was obviously a lot braver than Merlin had ever given him credit for. Although to be fair, Merlin had noticed that Arthur’s eyes were shut for most of the trip.

“I’m tired,” Arthur had claimed. “Merlin kept me up all night.”

And that comment had stopped any further discussion on the subject.

 “Are the bars open yet?” Merlin enquired faintly when the ride of terror finally stopped and he was released from the death-trap. He scrambled out and stood beside Arthur, who had exited the car equally quickly. “I feel the urge for whisky.”

“I got you here,” Morgana snapped. “It’s not my fault you overslept. Now move it! Less than half an hour, Arthur!”

“Plenty of time,” Arthur told her, waving a careless hand in her direction.

“What have you done to him, Merlin?” Morgana gasped. “He’s unbearable during a competition. The most un-chilled surfer you’ll ever meet!”

Arthur shrugged, then put one arm around Merlin and the other around his sister’s shoulders, guiding them both in the direction of the beach. “It’s fine. I’m going into this in sixth place, I stand no chance so I’m not going to worry about it. In fact, Merlin, why don’t you get me a bacon roll as well? I’m starving.”

“Bacon roll?” Morgana spluttered. “What happened to the health food? Who are you and what have you done with my brother? Oh my god! You’ll be turning into a human being next!”

Arthur just laughed and hugged them both tighter. Merlin felt a brief thrill of worry, recalling Morgana’s words to him that first night. But when he risked a quick look at her, he saw that she looked almost as happy as Arthur did. Morgana only surfed for fun, after all. Merlin decided then that he would probably be allowed to live.

It was far busier on the beach than it had been the previous day. The surfing finale appeared to have drawn a crowd, although the much sunnier weather might have had considerably more to do with it. Merlin didn’t envy Arthur the time he was going to have to spend in a wetsuit. They were fine in the water, but on a warm day they felt like mini saunas if you used them on land. There seemed to be a lot of standing around waiting to be called in the main part of the competition. Merlin could see Leon and some of the other contestants down near the judges. Leon had been talking to Elyan, but as soon as he saw Arthur approaching he broke away and hurried over to them. His wetsuit was only on up to the waist, the rest of it flapping behind him.

“Arthur! Hurry up and get changed. Lance is working on your board, and we’ve got your gear ready. You’ve been moved up into fifth with Gwaine’s retirement, but you need to appear in the preliminary line-up. Cenred’s been trying to get them to disqualify you for being a no-show.”

Arthur’s smile immediately faded, and he let go of Merlin and Morgana. “I’m a bit late, but I’m here. Fifth, you say?”

“Yes. Which means there’s still a chance, if you do really, really well in this round. And we both know you’re capable. Are you really going to let Cenred get away with what he’s done to Gwaine? I’m one place behind you, and I’m going to give it all I’ve got for Gwaine’s sake. So tell me you’re going to fight too, yes?”

Arthur nodded grimly, then turned to Merlin. “Forget the bacon. I want…”

“Protein shake, I know, I’m on it.”

Arthur smiled. “You know me so well.”

Merlin was returning the smile, knowing exactly how sappy the pair of them looked and not caring. But Leon wasn’t in the mood to pander to them.

“Save the romance for later, guys. There’s a competition to win...”

In the end, Merlin didn’t get his bacon roll.

It must be love, he realised when he found himself at one of the health food stalls ordering two protein shakes. But Arthur was never, ever going to succeed in dragging Merlin away from Gwen’s wonderful cakes. On that point Merlin was going to stand firm. Besides, it was easier to just queue at one stall. Particularly when there was hardly anyone at the health food stall whilst there was a huge line for the bacon rolls and hot dogs.

Merlin took a long drag from the straw in one of the shakes, then turned away from the stall with one drink in each hand. He almost crashed into the person standing right behind him.

“Sorry!” Merlin said, then realised who was standing there.

It was Mordred.

“Hi,” Mordred began, a little hesitantly. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your win yesterday.”

“Thanks,” Merlin replied. He waited to see what Mordred would say next. It left an uncomfortable silence, but Merlin wasn’t particularly interested in putting Mordred at ease.

“Um… What you said yesterday,” Mordred continued. “Was it Essetir that you went to? I know Val worked there years ago, under Cen’s father.”

“Well then you’ve got your answer. But yes, it was Essetir. Good choice of yours to leave Albion for somewhere safety-conscious like that. But I heard you like taking risks.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know Arthur.” _I know Arthur very well_ , he thought, but he didn’t say. He wouldn’t let Mordred taint what he had with Arthur, not now. “He’s a great guy.”

“Yes. My loss, I know.”

“I thought you were happy with Cenred?” Merlin pointed out. He didn’t like the idea of Mordred showing any interest in Arthur, even now that Arthur seemed to be moving on. “You both looked happy enough yesterday when you were trying to put Arthur off.”

Mordred looked down, biting his lip. “That wasn’t my idea. Cen hates Arthur. He just grabbed me. I wouldn’t purposefully do anything to distract another competitor, especially not Arthur. I feel really bad about the way it ended between us. Look, could you give Arthur a message from me?”

Merlin didn’t want to give Arthur anything from Mordred, but there was no point in telling Mordred that. “What?”

“Just tell him that I’m sorry and that I didn’t have anything to do with what’s happened. I hope Gwaine’s okay?”

Which pretty much confirmed that Cenred _did_ have something to do with it. And that Mordred knew as much.

“Gwaine’s okay,” Merlin told him. “But I’ll pass that on. And if anyone knows anything about who _was_ responsible for what happened, maybe they should go to the police? Because if they do it once, they’ll do it again. And next time the damage might be more permanent.” He paused, thinking about what Mordred had said about the split being his loss and what that might imply. “And I bet Cenred wouldn’t take being dumped as well as Arthur did.”

Mordred looked up at him in brief shock, then away. His expression was so fearful that Merlin actually felt sorry for him. After all, Mordred would have seen exactly what Cenred and Val were capable of. Small wonder he looked afraid.

“You should go,” Merlin urged. “You’re a competitor. They’ll be calling you soon.”

Mordred nodded. “You’ll tell Arthur though, right?”

“Okay.”

Merlin watched him walk away. Mordred’s head was bowed, and he was obviously deep in thought. Merlin just hoped that there was nothing in those thoughts about how he might like to get back with Arthur.

It was a good day for surfing.

The waves were rolling in at a decent height, but the water wasn’t too rough. It was pretty much perfect conditions for surfing. Well, as much as you would ever get in Britain anyway.

Merlin sat with Morgana, Lance and Gwen, watching the contestants being announced. Arthur and Leon stood side by side, being fifth and sixth respectively coming out of the opening day. It was a respectable position for Leon, higher than his current ranking in the league. Not so Arthur. Merlin joined the others in cheering loudly when the two Albion contestants were announced. Leon looked over at them and waved back, but Arthur was just staring grimly ahead, his mind obviously only on the competition.

Mordred was in second place, but when the compere called his name, the young surfer barely even raised his head in acknowledgement. Merlin saw Cenred nudge him and say something, but Mordred just shook his head.

Cenred, currently in the lead on points, made the most of the spotlight. He waved at the crowd, smiling confidently, and deliberately bumped into Arthur as he passed him. Arthur eyed him angrily, but that was all he did. Merlin hoped that was a sign that Arthur was really going to go for the competition and try to teach Cenred a lesson that way. Though he could see Arthur clenching his fist and knew he was itching to punch Cenred for what he’d done to Gwaine and so many other reasons.

The competitors headed off for final preparations, all trailing past the spectators.

“Just you to beat today then, Pendragon?” Cenred said loudly as they passed the Albion supporters.

Merlin saw Leon’s expression darken at the slight. He wasn’t the only one of the finalists to glare at Cenred for that. It wasn’t the brightest thing to say right before a final. They would all be trying extra-hard to beat him after that. Even Mordred looked put out by the comment. Though it was difficult to tell as he had looked so despondent to start with.

“You’ve got nine of us to beat,” Arthur pointed out. The eleventh-placed surfer from the previous round had filled Gwaine’s spot, keeping up the numbers.

Cenred shrugged. “Greene was the only real competition. With him out of the way, that trophy and the top spot on the league are mine. You might as well give up now, Pendragon. You know I’ll win.” And with that he turned and put a possessive arm around Mordred’s shoulders, pulling the younger man in for a kiss.

Mordred, Merlin noticed, wasn’t returning it very enthusiastically. In fact Mordred pulled away from the kiss quite quickly. Cenred regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, but kept a firm grip despite Mordred’s quite pointed attempt to get free. And Merlin didn’t miss the mocking smirk that Cenred gave Arthur. It was insulting not only to Arthur, but to Mordred too. Not that Merlin cared too much about Mordred. But he wasn’t having Arthur distracted from the competition for a second day. Then suddenly he had an idea.

“Arthur!” Merlin called before his boyfriend got too far away. “Wait a minute!”

Arthur jogged across to him. “What?”

Cenred and Mordred were heading into the clubhouse. Merlin hoped it would be a case of out of sight, out of mind. And he intended making sure the only thing on Arthur’s mind was winning.

Merlin unclasped the surfing bracelet Arthur had given him the previous day, and held it out. “This brought me luck yesterday.” He knew how superstitious the sportsmen could get and saw Arthur immediately look at the bracelet with interest. “I want you to wear it, to get the same luck I did. Hold out your arm.”

Arthur didn’t even roll his eyes. Merlin would have done, but then Merlin wasn’t a competitor, not really. He was an amateur who’d got lucky. And if Arthur thought that luck came from a bracelet, then Merlin was quite happy to go along with that. He fixed the bracelet around Arthur’s wrist.

“Is this like a favour, Merlin?” Arthur asked. “Like the ladies gave the knights of old. You’re really taking the princess thing seriously, aren’t you?” But Arthur wasn’t putting much effort into the mocking. Instead he was looking delightedly at the bracelet, turning his wrist this way and that, admiring it.

“I want it back afterwards. But you know, I expect you to win that trophy for me if you’re wearing my colours. It can go next to mine in the shop. Freya’s cleared a trophy shelf.”

“Consider it done,” Arthur promised.

“I’ll have to think of a suitable reward,” Merlin grinned, and Arthur immediately drew him in close for a kiss.

“This will have to do for starters.”

Unlike Cenred and Mordred, their kiss was long and sweet. Merlin really didn’t want to let Arthur go. They prompted a few good-natured catcalls from the Albion crowd, and Merlin was vaguely aware of some supposedly amusing quip from the commentator. He ignored it all, breaking off the kiss then fondly resting his forehead against Arthur’s.

“You can do this,” he whispered. “You’re better than any of them. Cenred’s right, Gwaine _was_ the only competition. And on a good day you’re better than him too. And this is a _really_ good day, right?”

“Right,” Arthur agreed but he sounded uncertain.

“It’s a _brilliant_ day,” Merlin urged. “First day with your amazing new boyfriend!”

“You mean the amazing new boyfriend who’s probably going to drag me to that awful-sounding Harry Potter studio tour or something equally dire before the year’s out?”

Merlin hadn’t even considered doing that, but yes it did sound like an excellent plan. It had been nearly a year since he’d last visited so another trip was definitely due. Especially as Arthur had almost certainly never been.

“Absolutely. And if you don’t win here today then your punishment is to take me there next weekend!”

“Dear lord…” Arthur breathed, but he was laughing. “Anything but that! Okay, yes this is a _great_ day and you just watch me! And you’d better be cheering me on.”

“Always,” Merlin assured him, giving him a quick kiss. “For luck. Now go!”

“Was that Star Wars? Were you being a princess again?” Arthur teased.

“You recognised it, you big nerd. Go!”

Still laughing, Arthur jogged off after the others. He turned once at that door to the clubhouse to look back at Merlin, and then he was gone.

“Oh my god!” Morgana groaned theatrically as Merlin sat back down beside her. “You two are sickening. Or the most adorable thing ever. Not sure which.”

“Adorable,” Gwen assured her, reaching forward to ruffle Merlin’s hair fondly.

Morgana snorted disparagingly, but Merlin could see the pleased smile on her face so took no notice.

He sat back, and waited for the competition to properly start.

It was nearly two hours later before Merlin saw Arthur heading out into the ocean.

Before that, Elyan had been persuaded to do an exhibition surf. As pretty much the only international British surfer, he was something of a celebrity and wouldn’t even have had to do more than ride in to get a cheer. As it was, Elyan liked to give people their money’s worth and treated the crowd to some fancy turns and flips. Gwen watched him, proudly applauding her brother.

“He’s going to come down to Albion and give a talk to the youngsters,” she had told them. Lance had muttered something about being checked out to make sure he was worthy of Elyan’s sister, and everyone had laughed. There were few people in the world more honest and worthy than Lance.

One such contender had gone out into the ocean just ahead of Arthur. Leon had done well the previous day, but the final put all the contestants under far more pressure. So far Leon had produced a couple of unexciting rides in. Functional enough but nothing that was going to let him challenge for the top spot. Merlin could see Morgana watching him carefully. She was biting her lower lip, obviously concerned at his performance. Morgana cared far more about her loved ones than she would ever let on.

And then it was Arthur’s turn to start.

The black of Arthur’s wetsuit and the sun-bleached blond of his hair stood out against the backdrop of the sea. He looked set and determined, and didn’t even look back at his supporters when they cheered his announcement over the tannoy.

“And currently in fifth place is Arthur Pendragon from Albion School in Camelot-on-Sea. Arthur’s third in the league coming into this contest and is one of the contenders who could take over the injured Gwaine Greene’s number one slot today. Arthur didn’t have the best of starts yesterday, but we’re hoping to see a return to form today.”

The speaker continued to talk about Arthur, but it was much of the same from the previous day, all about the founding of Albion and Arthur’s exploits as a junior. Merlin wondered if Arthur was listening. Merlin had found his own commentary difficult to shut out, but Arthur was used to it. He’d been surfing for years.

Arthur waded out into the water, then lay on his board and paddled out to the line up where the current contestants were already waiting. There were more of them out there than there had been for Merlin’s junior surf contest. It made it more exciting to watch, although Elyan had commented earlier that it also made it harder to judge.

The eighth-placed contestant, a tall man with a shaved head, had claimed a wave and was riding in. He had chosen badly, Merlin could tell that much. The wave wasn’t big enough for an impressive competition surf and although it was a functionally correct surf there was little else to recommend it.

“They won’t be last,” Morgana commented. Gwen gave her a little shove for being so mean, but Morgana just laughed. “Well it’s true! Oh! Leon’s having another go.”

It was a good choice of wave, high and powerful. Leon controlled the board well, executing several neat turns and flips back into the wave. He got a loud cheer from the Albion crew when he finished. Morgana blew him a kiss.

“Better than usual!” a loud and familiar voice yelled from behind them. “Don’t fall off the board!”

Gwaine was being wheeled down the beach towards them by Elena. She was struggling on the uneven surface. Wheelchairs were generally not made for sandy beaches.

“Gwaine!” Lance exclaimed, and hurried back to help Elena. “You shouldn’t be up and about.”

“Not missing this,” Gwaine assured him. “Besides, it’s only a few cuts.”

“It was more than that!” Elena exclaimed. She let Lance take over the chair and followed him back to the others. “You stay sitting there, and don’t you dare move without one of us helping you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Gwaine grinned as his chair stopped. He was obviously loving all the attention from her. “Who’s going to get me a beer then?”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “He’s going to be unbearable.”

“I’m injured!” Gwaine protested, stretching out his heavily bandaged feet. “Look!”

“The doctor said no alcohol,” Elena reminded him. “You can have water.”

Gwaine looked at her as if she’d said something deeply sacrilegious. Elena ignored that and put a water bottle in his hand.

“If Gwaine had stepped another millimetre or two over, he could’ve done himself a really serious injury,” Elena explained. “Whoever it was who put that glass there could have not just ended his surfing career but possibly even his ability to walk properly. I don’t know how anyone could do that to him. Gwaine fools around, but he’s such a sweetheart.”

Gwaine beamed at her for that last part, then frowned down at the water bottle again. “Is this for washing? Am I getting a bed bath? Hey, you could play naughty nursey, Ellie.”

“Did the campsite CCTV help?” Morgana asked quickly, before Gwaine went any further with that image. Elena was blushing.

“The CCTV footage was really grainy,” Lance sighed. “The police are over at the site now, finally. But they’re struggling to identify who it was. Can you believe they were still using video tape? The same one that gets recorded over every night. There’s a good chance they won’t catch whoever it was.”

“You all need to sign my cast,” Gwaine insisted. “Naughty Nursey, can you get me a pen? And maybe get yourself an appropriate outfit?”

“Gwaine!” Elena laughed, smacking him. “I’m not dressing up.”

“Arthur’s starting!” Merlin called quickly, trying to distract them all before Gwaine started begging or something.

“Thank goodness!” Morgana waved enthusiastically to her brother, though he might not have seen for all the lack of reaction she got. “Just in time to save us from Gwaine and his gross fantasies.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “Come on, Arthur!”

Arthur was up on his board, skilfully twisting and turning his way to the shoreline. Merlin loved to watch Arthur surf. When he was on form, Arthur was the best. And that day, it did look as if he was on form.

“Oh, he’s much better today,” Elena sighed. “Go, Arthur!”

It was a good first attempt, and Arthur smiled and waved back at them after he was done. Merlin tried to cheer louder than the rest, but when one of the others was Gwaine that was nearly impossible. Still Merlin liked to think that Arthur’s smile was mostly for him when Arthur looked over in their direction.

“So Merlin,” Gwaine drawled as Arthur paddled back out to the line-up. “What exactly did you do to Arthur last night to bring about this improvement? Do tell.”

“Don’t!” Morgana urged. “I can imagine, and don’t want to! Arthur’s my brother.”

Gwaine grinned at her, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t even think about saying anything,” Morgana warned. Her voice was low and dangerous. Sensibly, Gwaine closed his mouth.

“I’m an invalid,” he reminded her a few moments later, “be nice!”

Morgana just ignored him and started cheering again because Leon was up on his board and doing really well.

The rest of the challengers were gradually making their way out to the line-up. Caerleon, the Welsh school that Tristan Blake was representing, were all very vocal in their support for him. Tristan was currently placed third, having had a very good first day.

“Fall off!” Morgana called, then sipped her drink, all wide-eyed innocence when Tristan’s girlfriend glared across at them. “Well, he’s the one who originally trained bloody Mordred,” she grumbled quietly. “The little creep might never have taken surfing up if Tristan hadn’t been such a good instructor. They should take him back, move him out of the area so Arthur never has to see him.”

“You really care about Arthur, don’t you?” Merlin smiled. “Protective big sister.”

Morgana snorted. “Repeat that scandalous lie and I’ll sue!” But she was smiling as she said it. “Run and get me another drink, and I’ll forget the insult.”

“You’re driving.”

“I’m not! Leon can drive it back to the hotel later. My payment for sitting here supporting him when I could be shopping! I’ll have a Pimms. Gwen?”

“Sounds good!”

“Go and get us all a jug of Pimms from the bar, Merlin, there’s a darling. Be nice to me, you’re shagging my baby brother. We’re practically in-laws!” Morgana did at least have the decency to hand over a twenty pound note, so Merlin decided not to argue too much. He knew he wouldn’t win against both the girls anyway.

“What did your last slave die of?” he sighed, getting to his feet.

“Disobedience. Run along, you don’t want to miss Arthur’s next attempt.”

Merlin hurried off. He didn’t want to miss Arthur, but he also didn’t want to lose his current position in Morgana’s good books. Besides, if he hurried it should be okay…

It wasn’t, of course. As Merlin staggered back down the beach with two jugs of Pimms because there was a special offer, he could see Arthur at the water’s edge having just finished his second attempt. Judging by the cheering it was a good one as well. Arthur’s gaze fell on Merlin, who held up the two jugs as best he could and tried to shrug apologetically but just ended up slopping the drink on the beach. Arthur gave him what Merlin hoped was a mock-frown, picked up his board and headed back out into the sea.

“Oh great!” Merlin complained as he handed over the Pimms. “Now Arthur thinks I went to the bar instead of watching him compete.”

“It wasn’t his best run,” Morgana consoled him, taking one of the jugs. “You didn’t miss much. He won’t mind.”

“And you can make it up to him later,” Gwen agreed, holding out her empty plastic cup.

“Much more important to keep us in alcohol!” Gwaine called from his chair. “Me first! I’m the invalid! Look at me! Wheelchair-bound!”

Merlin ignored him. He poured Gwen’s drink and his own, then handed the jug over to Elena and settled back down to watch the rest of the competition. Then he realised something.

“Mordred’s out there.”

Merlin realised that Mordred must have been announced while Merlin was at the bar. So Arthur’s ex was out at the line-up. And, worse, he was talking to Arthur. They seemed quite deep in conversation out on their boards.

“And finally, after the withdrawal of Gwaine Greene, we have our current leader on the scoreboards,” the commentator called. “So let’s have a big Gawant welcome for Essetir’s Cenred King!”

Cenred was in a hurry. He didn’t even stop to wave to the crowd, just waded out into the water then paddled out to the line-up as fast as he could.

“Ah, Cenred’s eager to continue his challenge! Look at him go!”

Cenred didn’t let up on his frantic paddling until he reached the line-up. He appeared quite desperate to get out there, and barely managed to stop his board in time to miss colliding with Mordred.

“And Cenred obviously can’t wait to get started!” the jovial commentator called. “Can’t blame him. Our contest carries enough points that any of the current top four in the league could claim the number one slot at the end of it. So just as a reminder, with Gwaine Greene’s withdrawal, that’s Cenred King, Arthur Pendragon and Mordred Black. And if he has a really brilliant score today, and the others do very badly, we think Tristan Blake might just be able to sneak it as well. All of them are in with a great chance to start the season off really well, ladies and gents. Oh! And look at that! The pressure must be really getting to Cenred and Mordred, they’re having a bit of an argument out there by the looks of it. Come on, lads, be sporting. You’re from the same club.” The commentator paused but the row showed no signs of abating. “Oh dear… We’re sorry about this, ladies and gents. But look! This is an amazing run now from Tristan Blake! I think that might be making him the one to beat at the moment!”

Merlin tuned out, concentrating on the more interesting development over at the line-up. Cenred and Mordred were definitely having an argument. Cenred was all over the shorter man, leaning across and holding his board, talking angrily right in his face. Most of the other competitors were watching as well. Merlin saw Arthur lean over to say something to Cenred, but Cenred just waved him away and carried on his tirade to Mordred.

“Oh don’t get involved, Arthur,” Morgana breathed. “Leave them to it. Mordred made his bed.”

But Merlin knew that Arthur would never stand back and let someone bully anyone else if he could help it. Sure enough, a moment later Arthur tried to intervene again.

This time Cenred let go of Mordred’s board and started yelling at Arthur so loudly that some of it could be heard from the shore.

“Audible obscenity, Cenred King. Warning,” the commentator called. “Oh! Charming! Well that’s a _second_ audible obscenity. Point deducted.”

Mordred immediately took advantage of his freedom and broke away. He headed directly for the shore in a functional, unsophisticated surf, easily the worst of the day from any of the contestants so far. Mordred’s only aim appeared to be reaching land, which he did, and then hopping off his board to stride purposefully up the beach.

“And in another turn-up for the books, it looks as if Mordred Black is done for the day. That’s just one attempt, and he’s already out of the water,” the commentator announced. “Disappointing after his great showing yesterday, but it leaves the field wide open. And now Cenred King’s lining up to come in as well. Is he going to quit too?”

Cenred clearly was not intending to do anything of the sort. He gave a performance that was slightly below par for him, but good enough for the competition. With barely a glance at the shoreline, he headed straight back out for another attempt.

“Cenred looks rattled,” Gwaine commented. “Wonder what they were arguing about?”

Merlin recalled his earlier conversation with Mordred. He really didn’t want to feel in any way kindly towards the other man after the way he’d hurt Arthur, but still…

“I know Mordred wasn’t very happy about what happened last night,” Merlin offered. “That looked as if they’ve broken up over it. Or at least had a pretty bad row.” He didn’t dare hope it was bad enough that Mordred would go to the police with what he knew.

“Yes, for all his bad qualities Mordred did always try to play fair,” Lance admitted.

“Apart from towards Arthur,” Morgana reminded him sharply.

“Um… Apart from that, yes.” Lance agreed. He rapidly became very interested in his phone. Obviously Merlin wasn’t the only one a little bit intimidated by Morgana.

The brief upset didn’t seem to have put the other competitors off. Tristan and Leon both pulled out a couple of impressive surfs, as did one of the lower-ranked contestants. The field was starting to thin out though, at least as far as the leaders were concerned. It was still looking as if it would be a victory for Cenred, with Arthur or Tristan in second and Leon just a few points behind them. It wasn’t actually a bad result for Albion, but also wasn’t the one that they wanted. Gwaine had been expected to win it for them, and anything less than that was going to be a disappointment.

Instead of winning, Gwaine was sitting in a wheelchair on the beach. The hospital probably wasn’t going to be too happy about that when they got it back, Merlin thought. Gwaine’s feet were heavily bandaged, but that hadn’t stopped him pulling Elena down into his lap and holding her there. Yes, Gwaine seemed happy enough despite the discomfort he had to be in.

“Come on, Arthur!” Gwaine yelled as their friend made another attempt. “I don’t want my spot going to that ratbag!”

“Shhh!” Elena giggled, but Gwaine was completely unrepentant.

“Cenred did this!” he said very loudly, no doubt deliberately. Several people nearby looked over. “If you can’t win fair and square, you don’t deserve the prize.”

Arthur wasn’t going to win the trophy with that last surf. It was decent enough but he needed something that was going to give higher points.

“The surf’s just not high enough for the really spectacular run Arthur needs now,” Lance sighed. Merlin knew he was trying to change the subject from Cenred. “I mean, it’s much better than yesterday, but we just don’t get the sort of amazing waves in this country that would do it. Arthur’s on form, and so’s Leon, but they need a miracle to beat Cenred now.”

“If only the waves were a bit stronger,” Gwaine sighed in agreement. “Arthur’s always best when the surf’s up.”

Merlin gazed at Arthur as he headed back out to the line-up again. There was a determined set to Arthur’s shoulders and Merlin knew that his lover wasn’t going to give up, not until the last possible moment of the competition was done. But Cenred had come into the second day with a much higher score and was almost certain to win.

Merlin stared wistfully at the ocean. He willed it on, for the waves to rise higher before they crashed against the shoreline. If only they would, for Arthur’s next attempt.

The surfer in last place and the one just above him both gave up. Presumably they were aware that they had already scored as highly as they were going to that day. It left the water less crowded for the others, which had to make things a little easier for those remaining. Merlin watched as Tristan executed a near-perfect turn to rapturous applause and cheering from his fan club. He was doing well, and Arthur would be lucky to place higher than him. If only the surf would rise.

Merlin’s gaze kept drifting back to Arthur. Arthur was out at the line-up again, sitting on his board and biding his time. All he would want was a halfway decent wave.

“Come on,” Merlin heard Morgana breathe. “You can do this. Just one really good wave…”

One really good wave. Merlin sent up a silent prayer. Arthur looked so alone out there now because Leon was coming in once more.

The waves did actually seem a little higher, Merlin thought, but perhaps it was just wishful thinking. Except…

“That’s brilliant!” Lance cheered. “Come on, Leon!”

The others joined in, and Merlin could see Arthur out on the ocean, cheering his friend on. Leon rode the wave, twisting and turning like a pro. By the time he dismounted in the shallows most of the Albion crew were on their feet, clapping and yelling his name. Leon grinned back at them, saluted them, then picked up his board and headed for the shore. They all knew that was as good as it was going to get.

“And it looks as if Leon Knight is done for the day,” the commentator called. “Hell, _I’m_ done for the day after that! Brilliant piece of textbook-perfect surfing. We’ve been impressed with Albion this contest, I can tell you. Gwaine Greene was amazing yesterday, such a shame he’s not performing today. But just look at his club mates. You kids out there wanting to take up the sport, you should go to Albion, take some of their classes. Maybe this could be you in a few years…”

Leon was busy with various post-contest checks, so all the Albion crowd turned their attention to Arthur. Three more contestants were done within a few minutes of Leon, so only three remained. Arthur, Cenred and Tristan.

The waves _were_ picking up, there was no question. Tristan made the most of it, stylish and impressive out there. It was starting to look as if Arthur was going to end up in third place. And then, quite suddenly, everything changed.

Arthur picked a wave and started to paddle ahead of it, drawing out just far enough before he scrambled up into a standing position. He looked good, balancing there with the wave rising up behind him… and continuing to rise.

“Oh no…” Morgana breathed. “Don’t let it put you off. Go with it.” She had her hands clasped together, almost as if she were in prayer. “Come on…”

Rapidly, unbelievably, the wave grew to the sort of size never normally seen on those shores. It was rising up as Arthur turned into it. Arthur flipped up his board to hit the crest of the wave, then rode back down again to loud cheers. He did that twice more, by which time the wave was huge and starting to curl over.

“Do it!” Gwaine screamed at Arthur from his chair. He’d almost got up, but Elena had managed to make him stay put. “Damn! I’d love that wave.”

For a moment Merlin was puzzled by what Gwaine meant, and then he realised. Arthur turned his board so that he was surfing parallel to the wave, the wall of water rising up on his right side and starting to curl up over his head. Suddenly Merlin realised what Gwaine was talking about. Arthur was going to attempt a barrel.

It was a surfer’s fantasy, to get into the middle of a wave and ride through the tube. Merlin knew it was quite rare to get a decent opportunity to even practice them in Britain, let alone have a good enough wave turn up in competition. Arthur would likely only get the one shot at it. He had crouched down on his board and was almost hidden from view by the water.

“Come on,” Merlin whispered. “Come on…”

Gwaine and Elena were far less quiet in their enthusiastic support, but even they were drowned out by the excited commentator.

“This is a fantastic wave, and Arthur’s taking full advantage of it. I know we’re all holding our breath… and look at that! He’s going right down the barrel…”

“Don’t wipe out,” Merlin heard Morgana say. “Just stay on… keep going…”

And then suddenly Arthur was out and riding the surf down to the shoreline to the sound of cheering from all along the beach. Even Tristan out at the line-up was applauding.

Cenred, next to him, was not. Cenred looked furious.

The huge smile on Arthur’s face as he dismounted and picked up his board said it all. Merlin broke away from the others and raced down the beach towards him.

“That was amazing! Brilliant!”

Arthur just nodded, dripping wet and happy as he walked out of the sea and into Merlin’s arms.

“And that definitely puts Arthur Pendragon in the lead. One of the best surfs we’ve ever had at this contest, ladies and gents!” the commentator called. “Truly impressive, lots of talent and just a little bit of luck. And oh look! Our winner yesterday is congratulating him… steady on lads, there’s kids watching! Hey, get a room!”

Merlin ignored him and the catcalls that were coming from their friends and just carried on kissing Arthur. Arthur tasted of salt water and everything good.

“Mmm… what’s that you’ve been drinking?” Arthur murmured. “Sweet… or is that just you?”

It was probably the Pimms, but Merlin wasn’t going to admit to that. “Me, obviously. So, my lucky bracelet did it again then?”

Arthur held up his wrist and showed that he was still wearing it. “Must be your Merlin magic. That wave was unbelievable. It came from nowhere.” He glanced back at the ocean, where Cenred was up on his board trying to emulate Arthur’s success. “Surf’s gone right down to nothing now.”

It had. The sea would never be completely calm, but it was close enough. The waves that were coming in had died down and were doing little more than lapping against the shore.

Tristan managed to guide his board in smoothly, but nothing more. There was just no surf to work with, and the man had the sense to recognise that. He waded back to the shore, his enthusiastic supporters still cheering him. It was probably more out of respect than anything, Merlin thought. Cenred did not have the same dignity in defeat.

“What the hell’s he trying to do?” Tristan asked. He stopped beside Merlin and Arthur, the three of them looking out at Cenred’s display. “There’s no surf.”

Cenred didn’t appear to have realised that. He was trying desperately to put in some decent turns but failing miserably. In the end, unable to get up much speed on the calm sea, he fell off in the shallows. He got up, and kicked his board angrily then stamped on it. There was a loud crack and more audible obscenities.

“Idiot.” Tristan sighed. He turned to Arthur, giving him a respectful nod and holding out his hand to shake. “Congratulations, mate, that was a tidy bit of surfing. Really well-deserved win.”

“Thanks.” Arthur shook Tristan’s hand, smiling warmly. “You were really good.”

“Not quite good enough. But I’d rather lose to a proper sportsman. No shame in that.” Tristan glanced at Cenred, who was stomping past them without even stopping to acknowledge either of them. “Hey, don’t be a bad loser, Cen!”

Cenred gave him the finger and stormed off up the beach. He hadn’t even bothered to take his broken board with him, leaving it lying near the water’s edge.

“What a charmer,” Tristan commented. The three of them started to walk up the beach after Cenred. “Never liked him. That instructor of his, Valiant or whatever his name is. The big guy. He tried to sabotage one of my novices yesterday before newcomers contest. We caught him just in time.”

“We think he was responsible for what happened to Gwaine,” Arthur admitted. “But we can’t find any proof. I think… Oh!”

“What’s going on?” Merlin asked. Up ahead, Cenred had been stopped by a small group of officials and what looked like two policemen.

“Maybe they did find something?” Tristan wondered. “I hope so. If they sabotaged Gwaine, that’s just unsporting. He’s always been a good laugh. He’s a great guy. Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Merlin assured him. “He’ll be back on his board soon, apparently.”

“Good. I hate cheaters. Nobody from Caerleon would ever want to win that way.”

“Nor Albion,” Arthur agreed.

“Hmm. I can see that. You know, we should do a friendly between the two clubs at some point.”

Merlin saw Arthur’s face light up at Tristan’s suggestion.

“Great idea!”

“I’ll email you.” Tristan held out his hand to shake Arthur’s. “Congratulations again.” He nodded to Merlin, “You too. Good show yesterday. Though you two had better watch out because obviously Caerleon’s going to be trying extra-hard to beat Albion next time!” He smiled at them to show it was only a friendly challenge, shifted his board into a more comfortable position under his arm, then headed off to his own supporters. They greeted him enthusiastically, but it was nothing compared to the reception Arthur got when he rejoined the Albion crew.

Cenred, though, was the main point of interest. He was waving his arms around a lot and seemed to be arguing about something. Garrah and Elyan were standing quite close to Cenred and making no pretence of the fact that they were listening. It wasn’t as if they would stand out – everyone else in the vicinity was staring and listening too.

Cenred must have taken particular umbrage at something one of the policemen said. He suddenly shoved one of them, hard enough that the man staggered backwards.

“Oops!” Gwaine laughed, obviously enjoying the spectacle. “Not a wise move, matey.”

Sure enough, a few moments later Cenred was being slapped in a pair of handcuffs and led away, still shouting angrily.

“Ladies and gents, our apologies for any foul language you may have just been subjected to,” the commentator called immediately. “Not the sort of thing we want to hear on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. I’m just waiting for an update on the situation and how it relates to our competition results.”

“Seems fairly clear to me,” Morgana pointed out cheerfully. “To the dungeons with him!”

“I hope they’ve got him for what he did to Gwaine, not just for that shove,” Arthur replied. “He could have been seriously injured if that glass had cut through a tendon.”

“Apologies again for the delay, ladies and gentlemen,” the commentator called over the loudspeakers. “I can now confirm that Cenred King has been disqualified for unsportsmanlike behaviour. Just waiting on the official results… and yes, there we have it. Cenred King is indeed disqualified and that makes a change to the top three, though not to our winner. It was a great competition, very close, but here we go! In reverse order… in third place we have Leon Knight from Albion… congratulations Leon!”

Morgana gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around a stunned Leon.

“In second place is Tristan Blake from Caerleon. He came so close. An excellent display. Very promising. Well done, Tristan!”

Merlin joined in the applause. He liked Tristan’s sporting attitude. There would have been no shame in anyone losing to him.

“And finally, our winner, who has also claimed the prize of the top spot in the league. Again it’s a representative of Albion, this time taking the crown with a truly amazing surf. No surprise at all here, our winner is Arthur Pendragon! Congratulations, Arthur! Come on up here!”

Arthur made his way up to the little stage where Elyan and Garrah were waiting with a small cup. Merlin beamed proudly at him as he went. Behind him, he could hear Leon talking to the others, modest as ever.

“I was fifth really. Cenred beat me, and Gwaine would have placed ahead of me too.”

“Who knows?” Gwaine shrugged. “You did good, mate. And I wouldn’t have won either. Not against Arthur today. Bloody brilliant!” He slapped Arthur on the back. “Proud of both of you!”

“And Leon’s probably sixth in the league!” Elena enthused. “Oh my god, Albion’s going to have three of the top six surfers!”

For a moment Leon looked as if he might protest some more, but then Morgana popped a kiss on his cheek and hugged him. “I’m proud of you too, baby.”

After that Leon just smiled, hugely, and didn’t argue his success any further.

“So Merlin,” Gwaine began conversationally. “You and Arthur seemed very… _friendly_ just then. I hope your intentions towards him are entirely dishonourable. Arthur’s been all lonesome and boring for far too long.”

“Entirely,” Merlin told him because there would be no let-up from Gwaine if Merlin had even considered denying it.

“Glad to hear it,” Gwaine smirked before immediately turning his attention to the more important matter of pestering Elena for another drink.

Merlin turned his own attention back to Arthur. Arthur had left the stage and was standing beside it talking to Elyan, Garrah and someone else. At first Merlin thought it might be Tristan again, but then Garrah moved aside to let Arthur pass and Merlin saw a sight that made him feel sick to his stomach.

Arthur had his arm around Mordred and he was walking with him, back to the Albion crowd.

“No…” Merlin gasped.

Morgana immediately looked round at him, followed his gaze, then her expression darkened.

“What’s he doing with Arthur?” Leon asked.

That was something Merlin wanted to know as well. Arthur looked so happy, the cup in one hand and Mordred held far too closely by the other. Mordred was smiling at something Arthur had said.

“That little shit!” Morgana snarled. “If he’s trying to worm his way back into Arthur’s affections, I’ll kill him.”

Merlin didn’t doubt it. He was glad she was on his side. But Mordred looked so comfortable there with Arthur. And the way he was looking at Arthur...

 “What’re you doing here?” Morgana snarled as Arthur and Mordred approached. Mordred cringed a little, but kept walking.

“Leave him, Morgs,” Arthur urged. “It’s okay,” he added to Mordred.

“No, it’s really not!” Gwaine put in. “Arthur, don’t be an idiot! He’s not welcome here.” Gwaine glanced worriedly at Merlin, then back at Arthur. “You’d better not be thinking of letting him come back.”

“Mordred’s the one who turned Cenred in,” Arthur explained. “Cenred and Val, as we guessed, are the ones responsible for what happened to you. Val was boasting about it to Mordred this morning. They’ve both been arrested. Mordred did the right thing, so give him a break.”

Morgana and Gwaine both looked as if the only break they’d like to give Mordred would involve his bones.

“That was brave,” Merlin ventured. He was rewarded with a grateful smile from Arthur. “Val’s pretty scary.”

Mordred nodded. “I did it after I spoke to you. You were right. It would have been wrong not to turn them in.”

Everyone immediately turned to look at Merlin. Arthur’s expression immediately questioning. Morgana, as she so often did, looked suspicious.

“I haven’t had a chance to speak to you yet,” Merlin admitted. “Mordred wanted you to know that he didn’t have anything to do with what happened.”

“Merlin advised me that I should tell the police what I knew. I needed to speak to Cen about it first, just in case Val was lying. But he pretty much confirmed it. I couldn’t concentrate on the competition after that, so I quit.” Mordred looked at Arthur, his expression so sad that even Merlin couldn’t find it in his heart to feel angry with him. “I really am sorry. For everything.”

“So you should be!” Morgana snapped. “Well thanks for finally doing the right thing, Mordred. Have a nice life, now piss off, there’s a good boy!”

“Morgana…” Arthur warned.

“What? He treated you like dirt! I’m not going to be nice just because he wouldn’t be party to Cenred’s illegal activities. That’s still looking after number one as far as I can see!” She glared at Mordred and then at Arthur too for good measure.

“She’s right,” Leon put in. That was all he said though. Merlin didn’t envy him being stuck between his best friend and his girlfriend. Not the easiest position.

Mordred nodded and turned to go. “I knew this would be a mistake. Thanks Arthur. And you, Merlin.” He started to walk back up the beach towards the clubhouse. Arthur glared at Morgana and Leon then ran after him.

“Damn!” Morgana cursed and moved to follow, but Leon stopped her.

“Merlin should go. You’ll only antagonise them. Merlin, go and offer to buy drinks or something so you’re there to remind Arthur he’s got something good going for him now. For god’s sake don’t let Mordred worm his way back into Arthur’s affections.”

“Drag him into the loo and give him a blow job if he looks like he’s weakening,” Gwaine advised helpfully. Elena smacked him on the arm for that gem of wisdom. “Ow!”

If Arthur needed reminding, then perhaps what they’d got wasn’t as good as Leon or indeed Merlin had thought, Merlin realised sadly. But he followed anyway, jogging to catch them up.

A moment later he wished he hadn’t bothered.

Arthur and Mordred had stopped and were talking, heads bent close together. Arthur was looking very concerned. Mordred… well, Mordred looked at Arthur like a man in love.

“I made a mistake. I should never have left Albion,” Mordred was telling Arthur. “Or you.”

Merlin froze, those last two words like a kick in the gut. He stared at Arthur, feeling as if his whole existence depended on how Arthur reacted. He couldn’t lose Arthur, not now. But Arthur wasn’t looking back at him. He was gazing at Mordred. Smiling at Mordred.

“Thank you for that,” Arthur told him gently. “And for what you did today. I’ll talk to Morgana and the others. They’ll calm down. You’d be welcome back at Albion, as long as you understand we have safety rules and that all members need to obey them. That’s all we ask. You know where to find us. Ellie will re-register you if that’s what you want.”

“What I want,” Mordred said, stepping closer to Arthur, “is right here in front of me.”

Merlin watched them both fearfully, terrified of Arthur’s answer. Part of him wanted to run away, not hear what he knew had to come next. But he had to hear it for himself. Arthur loved Mordred, that was what everyone said. He’d been heartbroken when Mordred left him. Surely he’d take every opportunity to get his lover back? And where would that leave Merlin? Merlin, whom Arthur had been with for less than a day.

“Ah.” Arthur glanced over at Merlin, then back at Mordred. He ran one hand through his hair, fidgeting uncomfortably. “That’s awkward.”

Merlin decided that Arthur probably wanted him to leave. But Merlin wasn’t going to make it that easy. He stood, arms folded, glaring at them both.

“Things have changed,” Arthur sighed. He looked at Merlin for a moment, but Merlin couldn’t tell if the suddenly sad expression on Arthur’s face was going to mean regret over Merlin, or something else.

“Not that much,” Mordred insisted. “Things were never serious with Cenred. And you and me, we were good together. You know we were. We could have that again.”

But Arthur was shaking his head. “We can’t.”

“But… why? You’re not with anyone.”

“Well, I am. I’m with Merlin now,” Arthur explained. “And I’m not going to say that I’m sorry, because I’m not. I’m glad. It took me a while to realise that when I’m with him, I don’t think about you at all. He makes me happy in a way you never did. And now, with the two of you side by side… I really _am_ over you, Mordred. I wish you well. I really do. And I meant what I said about you being welcome to come back to Albion. But not as my partner.” He held out his hand to Merlin, who took it gladly, moving to Arthur’s side. “That slot’s well and truly taken.”

Merlin could feel his eyes welling up at Arthur’s words, but he didn’t care if he looked like a sentimental fool. The person most likely to make fun of him for it was gazing back at him equally soppily. Merlin was vaguely aware of Mordred making an excuse and leaving, but he didn’t care about that either. Mordred had hurt Arthur badly after all.

“We’re going to be worse than Lance and Gwen,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur just smiled, and kissed him.

Monday morning arrived far too quickly.

Lance drove them all back, as he was the only one without a hangover from the massive beach party that Albion and Caerleon had co-hosted the night before. He dropped Merlin and Gwen off at the shop, and to Merlin’s surprise Arthur got out as well.

“Lance is taking all the gear back to the clubhouse,” he explained, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “And I’ve got the day off so might as well enjoy it.”

Merlin wasn’t sure he had the heart to tell Arthur that he and Gwen were going to have to work. He was already expecting to be told off by Freya as she’d expected him back for opening time.

“You might have to spend it helping me tidy up,” Merlin warned. “Who knows what havoc Uncle Gaius and Geoffrey have caused?” He pushed open the shop door, hearing the little bell tinkle to announce a customer. “Only us, Frey. Oh my god!”

Uncle Gaius was behind the counter, ringing up a customer’s purchase. And Geoffrey appeared to be discussing Kindles with a middle-aged woman. Freya was happily rearranging the display on the front table of all the latest titles.

“Hi, Merlin! Hi, Gwen! Hi, Arthur!” she called cheerily.

Merlin gave her a death stare. “What was the one thing I said not to let them do?”

Freya shrugged happily. “Oh, don’t worry about that. That till’s much easier than the old one. Barcode scanning’s much less open to error. Gaius is fine. And Geoffrey has sold three kindles over the weekend. Did you know he had one? It’s been great. Some of the older customers feel more comfortable talking about them with him. He’s very patient. You can leave me here with them again.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He knew how good Freya was at twisting people round her little finger. “Have you just been putting your feet up while they dote on you and bring you coffees and cakes?”

“Me?” Freya looked totally guileless, which was definitely a yes. “Ooh, is that your trophy Arthur? Did you win?”

“They both did,” Gwen told her. “Merlin’s got a trophy too.”

Freya gave a squeal of excitement and held out her hands. “Gimme! It’s going up on the trophy shelf. Yours too, Arthur!”

“It’ll have to go on display in the clubhouse,” Arthur warned as Freya took the two trophies from them. “But it can stay with Merlin’s for today.”

“Yes, yes... Look, guys, Merlin and Arthur both won!” Freya called. She arranged the trophies on the little shelf behind the till. “These are just the first of many.”

“Arthur’s top of the league,” Merlin told them. “He’s probably already got hundreds.”

“Seventeen,” Arthur admitted. “But this is the best one. And I’m not really top of the league. Elyan’s in the international league. If he took part in the British one instead, he’d be ahead of me.”

“Well he doesn’t, so he’s not,” Gwen pointed out. “He’s coming over later. I want to show him the café. I need to start baking!” She hurried off in the direction of her beloved café. There was no wail of horror a moment later, so Merlin assumed her deputy had done a good job of looking after the place.

Uncle Gaius beamed at Merlin proudly. “Well done, my boy. I knew you’d win. I suppose this place is going to fill up with surfers now?”

“Surfers don’t read,” Merlin pointed out. Arthur smacked him on the arm. “Ow! Well you don’t! You all come in the café for Gwen’s cakes!”

“I come in for the cute bookseller,” Arthur reminded him. “You know, my boyfriend.”

Freya gave a little squeal and clapped her hands. Merlin could feel himself blushing a deep red. Gaius and Geoffrey were smiling at him fondly. God, it was worse than having to introduce a new boyfriend to his parents! At least his mum wouldn’t interrogate Arthur to death.

“Arthur Pendragon,” Arthur introduced himself, shaking hands with Gaius and Geoffrey.

“You’re Uther Pendragon’s son,” Geoffrey began. “I knew him way back when he was just starting out. I can see the resemblance to your mother. So do you work for your father? I hear his business has grown in recent years.”

“Uh… this is nice, but I have to unpack,” Merlin put in quickly, before Gaius could join in and start asking Arthur what his prospects were and his intentions towards Merlin. “See you all later. Thanks for looking after the place.” He hurried through the shop with Arthur, intent on a fast escape.

Arthur followed him up the back stairs to his little flat. As Merlin unlocked the door and let them in, he dreaded the comments that he knew Arthur wouldn’t be able to resist making. It would be so much smaller than anything Arthur had ever lived in.

“Your uncles are very friendly. I don’t have much of a family. You’re lucky.” Arthur looked around at the flat. “So this is where you live?”

Merlin put his bag down on the dining table. There wasn’t a lot of room to put it anywhere else. “Yes. It’s home and I love it.”

“I can see why!” Arthur was still looking at the flat. Merlin imagined what he might be seeing, how cramped it would seem.

“I know it’s small…”

“There’s nothing wrong with small. It’s cosy. I like it.” Arthur wandered over to the window and looked out. “Great view. I love a spot where you can see the ocean. I can see Albion. Ah! There’s George! And Lance! Do you watch us all from here?”

“No!” Merlin lied far too quickly and sharply.

“Hah! You do! Or do you watch us from your bedroom? Maybe we should go and check that out.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. It was very tempting, but…

“Not while the shop’s still open downstairs. Creaky floorboards and squeaky bedsprings.”

Arthur shrugged. “All your customers read pervy books anyway. You’ll probably increase custom.” He sat down at the little desk by the window and started fiddling around with things, picking up a small model dragon and pretending to fly it through the air. “Is this your home office?”

“Yes. And leave Aithusa alone, she’s the shop mascot.” Merlin tried to snatch the toy back but Arthur had it swoop down out of reach then hid it in his jeans.

“You’ll have to get it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur wasn’t going to give up easily, but there was no way that Merlin was going to give his staff and customers a show. “Later. Maybe. Do you want coffee?”

“Tea please. And maybe one of Gwen’s cakes if she’s baking a fresh batch.”

“What happened to the healthy eating?” Merlin asked, but Arthur seemed to have gone temporarily deaf. He was still moving things around on Merlin’s desk, although thankfully Aithusa was back in her rightful place. She’d probably smell of Arthur now. It was going to be really distracting when Merlin was trying to work. He’d have to move her.

“I could fit my laptop here when I’m homeworking,” Arthur told him happily. “It’s much nicer than the view from my flat. I can watch everyone surf.”

That sounded a lot as if Arthur was looking at their relationship to be a permanent one. Which was more than fine with Merlin. Arthur was already settling down and looking as if he belonged in Merlin’s home. Merlin trotted out to the little kitchen and began to make tea. Arthur called out to him from the spot at the window.

“You’re a proper surfer now. You need a board. I’m taking you to buy a board of your own next weekend.”

“Arthur, I’m not paying hundreds of pounds for a surfboard. And I need to be here in the shop,” Merlin called back.

“And a wetsuit. You need your own, and you’ve won vouchers to put towards surfing gear. I think one of the new O’Neill line, the one with the blue detail. Blue suits you.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“We could go to Gawant again, stay over.”

“I have a business to run!” Merlin reminded him, bringing in two steaming mugs of tea. “I can’t take two weekends in a row off!”

Arthur shrugged, taking the tea and sitting back in the chair, making himself completely at home. Merlin couldn’t help thinking how perfect he looked.

“Just us, all alone in the Harry Potter tent,” Arthur continued. “Think how much fun we had in there last time.”

Merlin paused, thinking about it. He didn’t have to think for very long. Arthur was far too persuasive. Merlin knew he was doomed to a life of doing whatever Arthur wanted. Still, if it involved weekends away together under the stars then Merlin thought he could probably cope.

“Freya’s really good at managing,” Merlin relented. “And I suppose Uncle Gaius didn’t wreck the till too badly this time…”

Arthur grinned broadly in triumph. Despite everything, he still really was a smug git.

But he was Merlin’s smug git, and Merlin loved him.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: Surf's Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11222925) by [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/pseuds/fingerprintbruises)




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